


Mass Effect 3: Paladins of Typhon

by Seracen



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Action/Adventure, Complete, F/F, F/M, Literature, Mass Effect 3, Multi, Romance, Sci-Fi, fan fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-11
Updated: 2014-06-11
Packaged: 2018-02-04 07:38:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 60
Words: 119,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1771027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seracen/pseuds/Seracen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). Fallout from the Reaper War lingers on.  A silent civil war brews amidst the rise of Dark Energy.  The asari and batarian systems are in disarray, and forces vie against the reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!</p><p>NB: Deals with elements of the Dark Energy plotlines that were dropped after ME2, in an attempt to make ME2 more pertinent to the saga as a whole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Intro - Heastrom

**Author's Note:**

> General Disclaimer: Mass Effect is owned by Bioware, not me. The IP is presented here under Fair Use. The story, however, is mine, and cannot be reprinted without my permission.
> 
> Author’s Notes:
> 
> Hello there everyone. Thanks for reading my work. I hope you enjoy it! At any rate, please read my rendition of ME3’s ending (ME3: Requiem) to get a feel for the background here.
> 
> If you aren’t interested, basically I am playing loose with the lore. If we reference the games only, I’m doing a hybrid of the “Control” and “Destroy” endings, basically the “best/happiest” parts of each (pretty much Destroy but without synthetics dying). In reality, I am still going to be referencing my own fic.
> 
> If you do reference my earlier work, I am working off the assumption that all the “best” choices were made, mainly the “A Branches” of each chapter I wrote. I will also be assuming that Shepard managed to successfully romance either Jack, or Liara, or even both.
> 
> Why both? Mainly because I'm lazy, and don't feel like picking. Also, it’s fantasy, and Bioware setup a relationship like this in a previous work, Jade Empire. Moreover, these two are characters that might actually go for a relationship like this. It's the future, I imagine all sorts of relationships exist that defy modern convention (just think...if we find alien cat people...those of us among the anime cultural subset will have found the apogee of our dating careers).
> 
> Anyway, some housecleaning to get you into the mindset of how I’ve crafted “Crichton Shepard” and his journey through the ME trilogy, leading up to this work…
> 
> Name: Crichton Shepard, now a Captain (Navy) /Major (Marine), ME ranks differ from standard military  
> Class: started off as Engineer from ME1; then Lazarus unlocked latent biotics, so Sentinel in ME2  
> (in ME3, I played an Engineer with Slam for the bonus perk, so this is how I Role Play it)  
> Origin: Colonist, saved Talitha  
> Military Background: War Hero, killed Elanos Haliat
> 
> Mainly Paragon, with a Renegade streak.
> 
> ME1: saved Feros colony and Shiala, saved Rachni Queen, saved Wrex, killed Kaidan, let Balak go, saved Council, recommended Anderson to Council  
> Other choices: saved Toombs, reformed Helena Blake, received the Consort’s gift, Romanced Liara
> 
> ME2: all squadmates loyal, all crew survived, chose Samara/killed Morinth, destroyed Collector Base  
> Other choices: resolved Feros contract, killed Vido, kept gray-box, kept Maelon alive, Romanced Jack  
> Also having Samara be drinking buddies with Thane (not QUITE a romance, but a close kinship)
> 
> ME3: cured Genophage, Mordin died, saved Rachni Queen (again), peace between the Geth/Quarians, recruited the Batarian remnant fleets, Control/Destroy hybrid ending (read ME3: Requiem).

Chapter 1

The land was broken and shattered. Soot-covered buildings smoldered, and gray dust billowed in the wind. Three humans lay huddled against a crumbling wall, taking shelter from the blazing hell that surrounded them. From almost every side, alien, shambling figures closed distance, raining down fire on the position of the haggard soldiers.

Brushing aside the matted black hair from his eyes, former Corporal Toombs grimaced at the slate gray sky, blinking against the irregular pulsating light that emanated from the broken violet sun above.

“Damn sunlight’s tearing through our shields,” Toombs cursed, rising from cover to fire at the abominations bearing down on them.

“I can’t believe it,” spat the man beside him, “what kind of weapons can these damn Reaper leftovers have to cause something like this?!”

The woman to Toombs’ left screamed in fury, as she unloaded her clip into the rushing husks, necrotic gray shells of what had once been living Humans and vorcha.

She cursed as she dropped back down, “if I’d known that Randall, maybe our squad wouldn’t have died pulling this evac.”

“We need to get going, before we join them,” said Toombs.

The woman nodded several meters away, “may as well be a mile to that dropship, I’m empty.”

Toombs shook his head, “loading platform is down, so we can make a break for it. That, or we die here.”

He glanced to either side, receiving nods.

“Retreating fire,” said Randall, “I’ll cover you.”

In unison, the three stood up, making an organized retreat for the spacecraft nearby. Shots blazed by, searing the air around Toombs. He heard the woman to his left cry out, blood escaping her shoulder as a round pierced the armor plating. Toombs cursed the sunlight that wreaked havoc on their barriers. He hefted the woman by her good arm, helping her onto the landing pad.

“Cannibal!” yelled Randall, “Grenade!”

Before Toombs could react, a blast shook him, flinging him like a rag doll. His ears were ringing, head pounding like a drum. He shook his head, helping his wounded comrade up, getting her into the open platform on the back of the ship.

“I’ll fire up the engines!” she yelled, shaking off his help as she limped inside.

Toombs turned to see Randall lying unconscious. He grabbed the young soldier by the arm, pulling him securely into the ship, collapsing backwards with a grunt as the vessel’s engines shuddered. Shakily, he rose, exhausting his rifle’s thermal clip as the docking doors began to close.

A hail of gunfire issued from beyond the ship, blinding him. The blasts hammered against his shields, the shock of the impacts driving the breath from him, before the door finally sealed shut. Finally, Toombs felt the drop in his gut, signaling that the ship had started take-off.

All around the ship, dozens of creatures ceased their fire, as a larger monstrosity, an armored Ravager, trained its giant sights on the escaping ship…

Behind the cohort, a lone figure, wrapped in a dark shroud, took aim with a large shoulder canon. It’s four eyes glowed blue, waspish wings twitching wrathfully. The tall biped took a deep breath, grunting in disdain before firing into the Ravager, the blast radius vaporizing the battalion of husks and cannibals surrounding it.

On the wrecked surface of Haestrom, a living Collector, perhaps the Galaxy’s last, looked on as the craft carrying the human survivors rose into the atmosphere, before turning to find a more space worthy vessel…


	2. Waking on the Citadel

Chapter 2

All Shepard could feel was pain. His hands were burnt; the armor on his body was melted, seared to his flesh. He could smell only his own roasting meat, as he ran through an ashen forest. Flakes of soot fell from a dull gray sky, as he searched for the source of the screaming…

He’d been in this forest before, countless times before, it seemed. Yet, somehow, Shepard couldn’t find his way, fumbling about in despair…where was that voice coming from? Where was the girl crying out his name?

As he crested a hill, Shepard caught sight of a young girl, no more than six years of age. She looked so familiar…

Several dark shadows gathered around her, shrieking feverishly at the frightened girl. Shepard growled his rage, scaring off the shadows. As he reached the girl, he reached out a broken hand, beginning to remember who she was…

As their fingers touched, the girl crumbled befor him, a frigid wind carrying her away like grains of sand. Shepard began to scream in agony, as his outstretched arm began to crack and fall apart like cheap glass…

 

Shepard woke with a start, his body awash in a cold sweat. He cradled his head in his hands, massaging his temples, trying to remember where he was…

A gruff sound to his left jarred Shepard from his reverie. He glanced sideway, recalling the lithe, naked body of the tattooed woman lying beneath the covers. Only someone suicidal would call it a snore. Still, her breathing broke through haze of the nightmare, forcing a smile from his lips.

A rustling from his right caught Shepard’s attention. He carefully freed his body from beneath the covers, drawing a shiver from the other woman beside him. The man softly covered her supple blue skin with the sheet, caressing her thigh; and finally extricated himself through the foot of the bed.

Shepard silently trekked from his bedroom into the adjoining bathroom, splashing water in his face to chase away the phantoms of his fitful dreams. He carefully investigated his reflection, noting the slight scars from his reconstruction.

What a tame word for it, he thought darkly. Anyone else would have called it death, regardless of how he’d managed to cheat it. He sighed, drying himself before getting on a pair of sweatpants, and flexed his hands. He spread his right palm out in front of him, trying to hear the whir of the servomechanisms that made up his joints. Though he knew that most of the bones had been replaced with metal, he didn’t feel so much as a creak. Shepard couldn’t decide whether to be grateful, or chagrined.

As was his wont, the soldier pushed aside his worries, looking forward to his morning workout, anything to take his mind off things. Shepard walked out of the bathroom through a side door, making his way into the stairwell overlooking the flat. The windows of the apartment tinted against the sunlight shining in. Shepard basked in the warmth of it, making his way down the stairs.

He stopped at the view of the Citadel outside his flat. The man shook his head, still unused to seeing Earth on the far horizon, beyond the wings. The planet lay past the outskirts of the station’s atmosphere; the wings themselves constituted what had to be largest space station ever created.

‘Never mind the fact that it houses a population rivaling most planets,’ thought Shepard wryly, ‘and most of the damn politicians that run said planets…’

Shepard threw aside all thoughts, clearing his mind as he stepped onto the workout mat of the sunroom. He started off with a standard hundred each of pushups and crunches, before squaring off against the punching bag hanging from the ceiling. Sweat dripped in rivulets from his face, running in streams down the straining muscles of his bare torso.

As he punched away his frustrations against the bag, he started to imagine the ghostly images from his dreams…recalling memories of his childhood. Those memories turned to the razing of Mindoir, everything he had ever known drowning in flames; the vision melded into the battle that had consumed him on Elysium, during the Skylian Blitz.

Something from beyond his field of vision caught Shepard’s attention, and he spun, thrusting out his left arm in a whirling backhand. A bare blue arm caught his attack, biotic fields flashing along the smooth skin, diffusing the force of the attack.

Liara winced slightly, a look of concern in her face, as she studied Shepard. The biotic field slowly dissipated, leaving her in her black tank top and matching shorts.

Shepard blinked several times, as if only just remembering where he was again. His eyes widened in shock.

“Liara, are you alright?”

She looked at him for a moment, admiring his glistening muscles, before shaking her head and throwing a towel at his face, “it will take more than that to take me down.”

Shepard nodded, as he patted himself down with the cloth, “sorry, I just zoned out for a moment there.”

“Nightmares again?” she asked, her smile turning once more into a frown of concern.

“Just tension,” he asserted, shaking off the question and making his way to the kitchen, grabbing some juice from the steel refrigerator, “got a meeting with the Council today, after all.”

“Hmm, I’m sure,” followed Liara, “where to now?”

Shepard grunted, guzzling down a glass, as he checked the holovid on the fridge.

“Huh, Garrus is canceling poker night.”

“Is that what you call it?”

“Hey, we play poker sometimes,” he protested, “probably just as well.”

“Expecting another assignment?” asked Liara.

He nodded, putting on a light tee shirt, “so I’m going to test some side-arms. I’ll probably run into another holdout of Remnant…”

Liara nodded. In the wake of the Reaper War, civilization (under the Citadel races) had won. However, the victory had not been without cost, and remainders of the Reaper forces still plagued some of the outlying systems. Without any actual Reapers to Indoctrinate and subvert more subjects through mind control, the danger was limited. Still, the Remnant, those already under the thrall of the Reapers, remained a threat.

“I don’t like you going out there,” replied Liara, “we don’t know what the Remnant are up to.”

“The Council is sure that they are just operating on instinct,” said Shepard, without much conviction.

Liara responded with a chiding look, which drew a smirk from the Spectre.

A loud yawn broke through their conversation, and both of them turned to see Jack stretching as she walked down the stairs. Her eyes were half-closed, a loose fitting red silk robe barely covering her tattooed, and otherwise naked, body.

“You two are still too damn busy in the mornings,” she groaned, brushing dark auburn hair from her eyes, as she raided the fridge, “where’s the meat? Ah…”

She emerged with her spoils, throwing the meal onto a plate and placing it into a microwave. A few moments later, Jack grabbed her food, then collapsed down into a chair, stretching as self-contentedly as a cat.

Liara laughed, “good morning to you as well. Are you heading off to the Cube already?”

Jack snorted, speaking through mouthfuls of food, “yeah, I can’t believe they made me a damn instructor there.”

Shepard shrugged, “you seem to be doing well, and your work at Grissom Academy was already well known.”

“Miranda said the same damn thing last week,” she rolled her eyes in reply, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you two landed me that job just to keep me around.”

Shepard gave her an innocent look, raising his arms in faux-confusion.

Jack glared for a moment, before breaking into laughter, “alright fine, you bastard, it’s actually pretty fun. One of my students even followed me down here. He’ll make a pretty good instructor himself, in a few years.”

“How’s young David handling things?” asked Liara.

Last time she’d met David Archer, he had been with the other students at Grissom Academy, under attack by Cerberus. Before that, Shepard had rescused him from brutal experiments in controlling AI, primarily geth. She couldn’t imagine the mental fortitude required to bounce back from something that horrific.

The tattooed woman nodded, “he’s doing much better. It’s thanks to him that we’ve got a tech division at the Cube in the first place. It was mainly a biotic training gym before.”

At least some other good had come of their involvement with Cerberus, now young David would have a life to call his own.

Shepard nodded, “heard he left a sweetheart back at Grissom Academy though.”

Jack shrugged, “he’ll get back on the next shore leave. By the way, I expect to see you there today, before you go in to see the Council.”

Groaned Shepard, “I really don’t need any training Jack, I’ll be fine.”

“The fuck you say,” countered Jack, “sure, you’ve got power. Any fool can see that, what with blowing the Collectors to hell, then taking on the Reapers.”

“So what’s the problem?” demanded Shepard, already knowing the answer.

“The problem,” answered Liara, “is that you’re latent biotic abilities didn’t come into full swing until Cerberus…reconstructed you.”

“Right, the ‘upgrades,’” sighed Shepard. The Lazarus Project that revived him had gone well beyond mere surgery.

“Besides that,” continued Jack, “you fucking died. And from the minute you were vertical again, you didn’t take one second to get a shakedown, not even after the end of the War.”

Shepard grinned, “I think the both of you shook me down plenty.”

Jack arched an eyebrow, refusing to be derailed, “cute, but I still need to run you through some biotic skills training, get a feel for your level. You need to know your own limits, if you’re going to get into a fight.”

“Besides,” added Liara, “nobody’s been in your…predicament before. We need to be sure…”

Shepard raised his hands in exasperation, “by God you two! Fine, you win! How the hell am I supposed to argue with the both of you?!”

Both women smirked in triumph, raising glasses to each other.

Shepard grunted to hide a chuckle, turning to get his ID lanyard off the coatrack, “well, I’m off to the C-Sec gun range, I’ll see you at the Cube later.”

“I’ll be right behind you,” said Liara, “I need to try out a few new weapons as well.”

Shepard nodded, making his way out the door.

 

After he had left, Liara sat down, across the table from Jack. The asari sighed, running her hand through her head crests.

“The dreams again, huh?” asked Jack.

Liara nodded, “why won’t he tell us about them?”

“Garrus and Miranda have been working on him too,” Jack shrugged, “things he’s been through, I’m not surprised. That shit’s not easy to talk about, believe me. I spent most my life trying to forget…”

“But that’s what we’re here for,” Liara said in frustration, “doesn’t he trust-“

She placed her hand over Liara’s, squeezing them reassuringly, “hey, don’t do this to yourself. You know it isn’t that.”

Liara looked up at her, “you didn’t see the look on his face…when he found out what had been done to him.”

The asari shuddered, remembering the destruction of the original Normandy, and how it had shattered all their lives.

“Goddess, just seeing what was left of him after…”

Jack lifted Liara’s chin, “that wasn’t your fault. Shepard came back to you, to us. Nothing can change that. He’ll tell us when he’s ready.”

Liara smiled, softly resting the other woman’s hand back on the table, “I know…trust him, right? How could I not?”

“Well,” Jack smirked, “I did take him away from you for a while.”

“I suppose, though I wasn’t with him for the Collector Base,” replied Liara, “so, considering you brought him back to both of us, alive, I think I can forgive you.”

The asari kissed Jack’s hand, before rising, “better get to the firing range before it’s too late.”

“I’ll see you at the Cube,” nodded Jack.


	3. Toombs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happens when the Galaxy tries to rebuild, in the wake of the Reaper War? In this post ME3 fic, I attempt to reconcile my version of ME3's ending, the Dark Energy Theory, and lend more credence of ME2 to the central plot.
> 
> Old legacies still echo, demanding retribution, and new trouble looms for our heroes. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 3

Outside the orbit of Haestrom…

On the escape ship, Toombs shook his head, wincing as he noticed the wound in his side. He clamped down on it, his good left hand closing the tear in a vise. He fumbled with his last syringe of medigel, injecting it into the gash, the biofoam barely managing to seal the wound.

Toombs nodded, it would do for now, “Close call, huh?”

His comrade remained silent, prompting him to turn, “hey, Randall…”

Toombs breathed sharply as he caught sight of his friend. Only half of the young man had made it into the ship. The bottom half was still lying back down on the planet’s surface.

“…Damn…”

Toombs shook his head, realizing that, for the second time in his life, he’d effectively lost his entire squad. The soldier turned, crawling to his feet, stumbling his way into the co-pilot’s seat. He collapsed, taking a moment to stare aimlessly into the space beyond the display windows of the cockpit.

“Never thought I’d say this to a Cerberus agent, but thanks.”

The pilot glanced sidelong at him, “hey, we’re called Orthos now, Alliance Special Ops. We’re sanctioned by the Council, so I don’t need your shit.”

Toombs raised a placating hand, “I know, I’m sorry. We both lost good soldiers down there…”

“Good,” she nodded in reply, “now, time for the bad news…”

“Is there any other kind?”

“Haha,” she replied sardonically, “so we’re out of medigel, and this bucket won’t make FTL. Something blasted the mass effect generators on the way off planet.”

This far out in the Terminus Systems, without a working faster-than-light drive…it might take them weeks, perhaps months, to find a populated colony.

Exasperated, Toombs pinched the bridge of his nose, “so what, we drift until someone finds us?”

“Sort of, we aren’t too far from the trading lanes. So, we book it toward Omega, hope we get picked up along the way.”

The man glanced at the Orthos operative solemnly, “we may not make that run, if vorcha or batarian slavers get us first.”

“True,” she agreed calmly, “we need to send out the info we got planet-side.”

Toombs reached into a pouch, pulling out a data stick with shuddering hand. He slid the device into a communications port on the terminal in front of him, dialing an address he thought he’d never have occasion to use again.

He took a deep breath before beginning his message, “Shepard…it’s me, Corporal Toombs. You…saved my life a few years back, you’ve been saving lot of them lately…”

“Time I returned the favor,” he continued, “I’m…sorry about the message I sent before…I don’t think anyone realized the truth. I’m glad you saw your way through, in the end. The info I’m sending you is CRUCIAL…”

He stopped short, unsure what to say…

“Captain, it’s worse than we feared,” said the pilot beside him, “the Reaper Remnant are organized somehow, and engaged in active research. We couldn’t decipher it. I will be sending a copy of this to Director Lawson.”

Toombs turned to her, nodding his thanks as he cut the transmission. He laughed hopelessly, “the message can go out FTL, even if WE can’t…”

“We’ll be fine…”

“Uh huh,” grunted Toombs eyelids feeling heavy, “wake me up if anything happens…”

Considering the shock, he was surprised he’d stayed awake as long as he had. Toombs heard the pilot murmuring as he drifted off into sweet oblivion…

 

After a criminally short interim, he awoke to a giant shuddering. The hull around him reverberated.

Toombs growled in rage, “hey, what the hell?!”

He shook his head to kick-start his thinking, realizing he didn’t know his companion’s name. The man turned to ask, noticing that the woman was hunched over in her chair, arm dangling lifelessly at her side, blood dripping down it into a large pool at her feet.

It took a moment to register that she was dead, probably from a wound he hadn’t seen. A second later he cursed himself, realizing he’d used the last of the medigel. Another instant brought sorrow, knowing that he’d never get to ask her name now…

Toombs next turned to look outside the cockpit, only then noticing two ships warring silently outside. He laughed at the absurdity of it. Of all things, it was a pirate ship that had found them. They’d been “rescued” by the vorcha.

However, it was the larger ship, almost the size of a comet, which caused his breath to seize. Toombs had seen holos of these ships before. The Collector’s were dead, but that wouldn’t stop whatever controlled the Remnant forces. They’d splay him open on an operating table, like those poor souls he’d seen on Haestrom.

‘That is, if I’m not ‘rescued’ by the damn vorcha and sold into slavery,’ Toombs laughed again.

He could only hope that Shepard would get the message…he had to get the message.

Not knowing why, Toombs clasped hands with the dead Orthos woman, “well, we did what we could girl. I can’t thank you enough for getting me out of that hell…”

He tapped a few keys on the terminal, ignoring the whine of the ship’s engines, as he forced the vessel’s mass effect generators to overload. A bright light devoured the ship, as he steered it toward the mammoth vessel.

Toombs closed his eyes, feeling almost calm as explosions rocked the ship.

A voice in his head played a now famous quote, said back on Earth by a journalist, during the dawn of the Reaper War.

‘You want to see how a human dies? At ramming speed…’


	4. Training at the Cube

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happens when the Galaxy tries to rebuild, in the wake of the Reaper War? In this post ME3 fic, I attempt to reconcile my version of ME3's ending, the Dark Energy Theory, and lend more credence of ME2 to the central plot.
> 
> Old legacies still echo, demanding retribution, and new trouble looms for our heroes. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 4

Shepard jogged through the streets of the Citadel, ignoring the glaring neon signs and commercial displays. He took smug satisfaction at the inability of the ads to identify him properly. It was a minor perk of being a SPECTRE, the Council’s justice (and being clinically dead for some time probably had something to do with it).

It was more difficult to ignore the salutes, as well as awestruck pedestrians who managed to notice him. He politely wished his greeters a good morning, and nodded to the salutes from the soldiers on duty.

Finally Shepard made his way to the C-Sec offices, moving past them to the SPECTRE training and requisitions wing. The doors opened, automatically recognizing his bioscans. He grabbed a pair of goggles on his way through the steel walls of the hallway.

Shepard cued up a selection of guns, trying out new modifications to a Black Widow sniper rifle. The beast of a gun weighed half as much as he did, and was almost as tall. He squared his shoulders against the stock, taking aim at an armored target, before firing.

The damn thing kicked like a mule, and was made to take out armored vehicles. Most normal humans could easily have shattered a collarbone, or at least broken an arm shooting the gun. The SPECTRE wasn't sure he liked being able to fire with relative impunity. Shepard hadn’t been normal ever since he’d died, his new body reinforced with a metal endoskeleton.

Shepard shook his head, trying a different sniper rifle, a Valiant this time. Sure he could carry the Widow, but the monster was too heavy. Like the Black Widow, the new weapon had a clip, so he didn’t have to empty the thermal slide between shots. He also preferred the Valiant’s faster reload time; it was a valuable asset when dealing with scores of heavily armored opponents.

He added another mod to the barrel, firing once more into the target. The Valiant kicked, though not nearly as hard as the Widow. Shepard glanced at the readouts, pleased at the results.

The SPECTRE turned as he heard the door cycle open. Liara entered, wearing goggles around her face as well. She grabbed smaller implement from the rack of weapons, a Hornet submachine gun.

Shepard nodded in approval as Liara braced herself for the recoil, managing to empty an entire burst from the short SMG into the center of the target.

She turned to Shepard, “I know pistols already, and I’ve been getting practice with these, but I want something with more stopping power.”

He nodded, turning to the shotguns, “I think Tali was showing you around some of her favorites last time, yes?”

Liara nodded.

Shepard then turned to the assault rifles, “then let’s get you acquainted with the workhorse of a soldier’s arsenal.”

He grabbed a lighter weapon, the Vindicator.

“We aren’t going to try a sniper rifle?” asked the asari.

Shepard shook his head, “save it for Garrus. A lot goes into preparing to use a weapon like that. We’ll have time later, but this is a good start.”

Liara nodded, “and besides, perhaps I could get the foremost sniping expert to teach me, right?”

He scoffed in mock dismay, “don’t tell HIM that, he’d never shut up about it.”

Shepard handed Liara the weapon, drawing up behind her, as he placed her arms in the appropriate places along the gun. She fired the Vindicator, shuddering under the burst fire of the weapon. Liara cursed silently. Though the first shot hit the target, the subsequent rounds in the burst flew wide. The asari shook her hands, muscles twitching from the kickback.

“It’s got more kick than the Hornet,” offered Shepard, adjusting her hold, “take your time, compensate for the recoil.”

Liara nodded, taking aim again. She held her breath, and braced before firing. This time, all three shots the target, the first round inside the middle ring.

“Good,” said Shepard, “try out a few mods, see what you like. Not bad at all.”

The asari grinned, easing her hips back against Shepard, resting against his firm body, “mmm, well, I have a good teacher.”

He shook his head, “and I’m sure your…extra curricular pursuits with a certain clandestine organization had nothing to do with it?”

Liara, known to some as the Shadow Broker, simply laughed, “perish the thought.”

She sighed, as Shepard nuzzled against her neck. She gyrated her hips slightly in response to his ministrations, before breaking off, “alright, enough target practice…”

He grinned in reply, placing away his guns, “what, you have another target in mind?”

Liara cocked her head to the side playfully, “maybe later, after we get back from the Cube.”

Shepard avoided rolling his eyes, barely, “fine, fine, slave driver…”

The asari laughed in reply, “I think you’ll find Jack to be a more apt fit for that title…”

*****************************

The Cube was a large facility, a place to hone the finest minds in the field of biotics and tech-based skills. Enrollment was open to everyone, and engaged students of all races in puzzles, critical thinking, and, of course, disciplined martial arts (according to their talents).

Some individuals, such as Shepard and Liara, could actually engage in both fields of activity, as their bodies were accustomed to both biotic and tech-based amps. Currently, the SPECTRE was engaged in combat with two of the most powerful biotics ever to grace the facility, one of which had left sanity behind long ago.

Shepard ducked low as a biotic Push flew over his head, bringing up his left arm to fling gouts of flame from his tech amps. His omnitool heated up, as its nanoforge technology manufactured the attack. He immediately felt the drain as the apparatus fed on the energy stored in his muscles, causing them to burn slightly from fatigue.

Another biotic field struck him from behind, as Liara lifted him with her abilities. Shepard turned in midair, focusing on her, flinging a biotic Slam of his own in her direction.

The air around him began to crackle, and Shepard cursed, as his own biotics reacted with Liara’s attack. The resulting detonation hurled the both of them away, as they skittered across the ground. Shepard’s eyes rolled back, and he shook his head, instinctively getting to his feet.

He heard the torrent of a biotic Shockwave bearing down on him, and engaged the adrenaline reserves in his body. The cybernetics in his system overloaded his bloodstream with an Adrenaline Rush. The ability was another passing gift from his reconstruction at the hands of Cerberus.

A flash of energy honed Shepard’s instincts, as everything seemed to slow down. This, in turn, allowed him enough time to get a running start, and finally, to jump over the Shockwave. The reverberations still racked his body, though not at full force.

Shepard caught sight of his other assailant, Jack, and gathered biotic power in his right arm, crashing down at her with his fist outstretched. The Nova blast rocked the area around him, but Jack had already backpedaled. The force knocked her from her feet, and she biotically flung a series of nearby crates at Shepard.

For several moments, Shepard and Jack exchanged blows, and finally an attack got through Shepard’s defenses. A crate slammed against Shepard. He rolled with the impact, but found himself flat on his back.

On instinct, he brought up his left arm again, priming an electric Overload as Jack brought her boot to rest on his chest. Her arm was raised, biotics flaring along her fist, as Shepard held his own blast, a humming issuing from the tech amp in his left hand.

Slowly, the two fighters calmed, sweat dripping from their foreheads. Jack grinned at Shepard, offering an arm. He clasped it, as the woman helped him to his feet. While Shepard was shaking off the weariness of the exercise, Jack slapped him across the face.

“THAT was for relying so much on your tech implants,” she commented.

Before he could reply, she sealed his lips with a kiss, her smoldering tongue seeking purchase against his own. Shepard felt himself flush with heat again, before Jack broke off the kiss, grinning wryly.

“But your biotics are solid,” she continued, “maybe we’ll have to think of a way to reward you.”

Liara chuckled, throwing a cloth to each of them, “go easy you two. I’d hate to carry you out.”

Shepard glanced from Liara to Jack, shaking his head in exasperation, “well, if you both are quite through bashing my head in for morning exercises, I’ve got a Council meeting to head off to.”

Jack laughed, “yeah yeah, get going, I think we’ve drawn enough of a crowd for one day.”

The SPECTRE turned to look out the reinforced windows of the gym they were in. Quite an audience had formed in the viewing catwalks above, as well as behind the safety glass beyond the room’s exit.

He shook his head, seeing the awed faces of the youngsters who were slowly entering the room for the next training session, “well, go easy on your next class, okay?”

“In your dreams boyscout,” quipped Jack, “I have my rep to think about.”

Liara smirked, leading Shepard away, “we’ll see you at home.”

Jack nodded, turning to the next class of students, many of whom began to visibly wilt as Jack began her tirade, “alright kids, LESSON NUMBER ONE-”

“Think they’ll be okay?” asked Shepard, once they were in the hallways, out of earshot.

Liara smiled, “she loves her students, even if she seems a bit harsh.”

“The Instructor takes care of us,” came a voice from the side.

Shepard and Liara turned to see a young man, dressed in the black and red fatigues of Grissom Academy.

“David!” exclaimed the asari, “I heard you’d followed Jack from Grissom Academy, to train students.”

Shepard felt his spirits lighten, seeing the young man alive and well. David Archer had been a puppet, subjected to horrible experiments at the hands of the R&D division of Cerberus. He shuddered to recall the state of the boy, tethered to tubes and sockets invading every aspect of his body…all of it done to find how to control the geth. 

Looking back on it, Shepard should have realized then that Cerberus had gone too far. He pushed those memories aside, more common a necessity these days, and forced himself back into the present.

“How is teaching at the Cube treating you?”

Archer smiled in reply, “I’m enjoying it here. Lots of work; lots of new solutions. Besides, the Instructor took care of me…I wanted to keep her safe.”

Liara grinned at the thought of the precocious young man protecting a living typhoon like Jack, “I’m sure she appreciates that.”

David nodded, “and I owed it to you, for saving my life.”

Shepard patted Archer on the shoulder, “you never have to thank me David; you know that.”

The young man nodded, “won’t keep you…good day.”

Liara sighed as they walked out of the training facility, “good to see him moving on.”

Shepard couldn’t believe how resilient the lad was. Not three years ago, the boy had suffered horrors that would have broken a battle-hardened krogan.

“The galaxy has a lot of scars,” he said, “it’ll take time to heal.”

“We’ll get there,” Liara placed her hands in his, squeezing reassuringly, “meanwhile, you’ve got a date with the human councilor.”


	5. Mission Brief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happens when the Galaxy tries to rebuild, in the wake of the Reaper War? In this post ME3 fic, I attempt to reconcile my version of ME3's ending, the Dark Energy Theory, and lend more credence of ME2 to the central plot.
> 
> Old legacies still echo, demanding retribution, and new trouble looms for our heroes. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 5

Crichton Shepard sat in the waiting area of the human embassy.  He was early for his meeting, and was taking the time to cool down from his morning exercise regimen.  A life in the military had drummed into him the prospect of quick showers, but they weren’t very restful.

He looked out the window, watching as slivers of light flitted by, the shimmering hulls of vehicles darting across the Citadel.  Shepard was woken from his reverie by a call on his omnitool.

Tapping the holographic interface, the SPECTRE smiled at the familiar face.

“Nice to see you Miranda,” he offered genially, “what’s up?”

Lawson nodded back to him, “heard you’re going in to meet the council.”

“Councilor Sanders, yes,” he nodded, “anything I should know?”

Miranda shrugged, “I just finished my report for her, so you’ll hear it all soon enough.”

“Well then, while I enjoy our talks, why call me now?”

The spymaster sighed, leaning back in her chair.  For the past several months, Shepard had maintained close ties with all of his former squadmates, though few more often than Garrus and Miranda.  Rebuilding the galaxy was a long and arduous process.  Liara and Miranda both had been instrumental in organizing the intel necessary for such a task.

“Just wanted to make sure, double check your reports on the Remnant forces,” she replied, biting her lower lip.

“Liara sent all the info I had.  Garrus and Tali should have sent you the rest,” he answered, “what’s bothering you?”

“I don’t know.  There’s a lot of coming down the pike.  I guess, talking to you helps put it into perspective.”

Shepard grinned, having heard it before, “I guess all that time I spent under the knife left a lasting impression.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, “would you believe that you are probably the only person I’ve spent so much time with?”

“No other friends?”

“Well, there is Jack,” Miranda shrugged, “but barring my sister, you are the only other person I really trust.”

She had a wry look in her eye as she further explained, “besides, few can post a resume of action as…extensive as you.”

Between all the years of constant battle, cheating death so many times, that was a criminal understatement.

Shepard snorted, “you’ll be alright Miranda, you always land on your feet.”

“Well, having reliable friends helps,” she shrugged, “thanks for the talk Shepard, I won’t keep you.”

Shepard glanced past her holo image, noting that the secretary to the Councilor was looking at him pointedly.  He shook his head, not even questioning how Miranda had known.

“Call whenever you need Miranda,” he said, “we’re always here.  Despite what Jack may say, she loves drinking with you.”

As he signed off, he heard Lawson issue a small laugh.  He was glad to put her mind at ease, and he felt the better for it as well.  It dawned on Shepard that Garrus’ calls to him probably served the same purpose, and the symmetry made him laugh.

But now it was time for business, so Crichton put on his game face, and started walking…

********************************

Councilor Sanders had once been simply “Kahlee Sanders,” just another scientist working at a set of dusty ruins.  Although the daughter of a famous Admiral, she’d been of no consequence to anyone, and happy to remain that way.

Then she’d met David Anderson, and her life had never been the same since.  Together, they’d taken on the war criminal Saren Arterius, before anyone had known of his Indoctrination at the hands of the Reapers.

They’d faced down Aria T’Loak as well, the “Pirate Queen of Omega” herself.  Then, not even a year later, Cerberus had come knocking at her door, aiming to kill her and take all the hard work she had done on Grissom Academy.  Frankly, she was surprised to still be alive.

Kahlee sighed, shaking her head as she put away the picture in her hand.  It didn’t seem fair that she should be alive, when David was gone.  They’d made a memorial to him, on Earth and the Citadel.  They’d even turned her into a Councilor, so she could continue his work.  But none of it changed the fact that he was still gone…

A gentle knock at the door shook the Councilor from her thoughts.

“Come in,” she announced, looking forward to a meeting for once.

A man in a crisp black suit walked in.  His hair was cut close to the scalp line, in clean, military fashion.  He stood at attention, waiting for her cue.

Kahlee shook her head, “Captain Crichton Shepard, haven’t I told you not to be so formal around me?”

The man smirked in reply, “as a SPECTRE in the service of the Alliance, I can’t very well disrespect the human Councilor, now can I?”

Sanders rolled her eyes, “damn it Shepard, you’d be an Admiral, if you weren’t so stubborn; and I’d be just as happy to never meet you in an official capacity at all, barring State dinners.”

The SPECTRE snorted, taking a seat across the table from Sanders, “which is why I never took the posting.  Could you really see me at board meetings?”

The Councilor smirked, leaning back in her chair, “this from a man who, on TWO separate occasions, brokered peace treaties between species at war for centuries…and saved my life.”

“I can’t allow myself to be so conceited, simply because I helped save the Galaxy.”

Kahlee couldn’t help but laugh, “oh, and you’re so humble as well…”

“Of course I am,” Shepard gestured, “otherwise I’d have brought attention to the fact that I’d saved the Galaxy three times, instead of just the once.”

This is why she enjoyed talking with him; he was one of the few people she could be herself with.  Kahlee considered Shepard a brother.  He’d been a protégé of David, and was the only other being that knew the man, rather than the legend.

The thought sobered her, “he’d have been proud of you.”

Shepard drew silent, instantly knowing who she meant.

His eyes grew distant, “he was…it was the last thing he…ever said, actually.”

Kahlee looked down at her hands.  The both of them had been so busy with the work and accolades after the Reaper War, they hadn’t had time to discuss the aftermath.

She fought back the tears welling up in her eyes, “you were with him then?”

He nodded, “we talked about building families.  He said I’d have made a great father.”

Sanders smiled, it sounded like David.  Shepard had been the son he’d never had.

“That was all?”

“I figured he’d certainly earned a rest,” replied Shepard, “he…had a smile on his face.”

Kahlee nodded, sighing deeply, “thank you…”

“He was certainly happy to leave politics behind.  I can respect the sentiment.  So, what are we in for at the Council meeting?”

Sanders blinked several times.  She silently thanked him, glad for an excuse to clear her head.

“About your appeal to the Salarian Dalatrassy…”

“There’s nothing to discuss,” countered Shepard, “I saw the evidence with my own eyes.  Ask Major Kirrahe, he’ll vouch for me.”

“It’s not as simple as that,” she replied,” we need more evidence.”

“My omnitool recorded plenty.  Barring that, I’ve also got evidence that Dalatrass Linron, the head of the salarian government itself, tried to blackmail me into sabotaging the Genophage cure.”

“About that,” started Kahlee, “did you know that krogan birth rates haven’t risen as high as we projected?”

Shepard quirked his head to the side, “what, I thought the cure removed the frequency of still births?”

Kahlee nodded, “it did, but the krogan aren’t producing the large clutch sizes that they were once known for.  The females are birthing maybe a dozen, or half that, versus the hundreds they did before.”

“They only produced one viable offspring in a hundred before anyway, so it’s an improvement,” reasoned Shepard, “and I thought the Council races were concerned with krogan overgrowth.”

“They were,” answered Sanders, “but this new birth cycle renders it a moot problem.  The krogan are satisfied with the result, as it IS an improvement.”

“But?”

“But,” continued the Councilor, “if we let it be known that Dalatrass Linron approached you, to sabotage the cure…”

“The war hawks in the krogan union will think I went for it,” scoffed Shepard, “Wrex and Bakara would never believe that.  I showed them the evidence.”

Kahlee nodded, “and they never shared the knowledge with the other krogan.  They know their own people, Crichton.  It will take years for them to grow out of their hatreds, both against each other and the rest of the Galaxy.”

“So, we can’t use the evidence I found,” sighed Shepard, “what will we do about stopping the salarian testing on Yahg and Varren?  We’re looking at another rebellion here, one that would eclipse the Krogan Wars.”

Sanders clasped her hands, resting her chin on them, “how about your contacts in the salarian STG?”

Shepard shook his head, “I’ve been trying to contact Padok Wiks for weeks now.  I haven’t seen him since Sur’Kesh.”

“Hence why we haven’t been able to reach Kirrahe, who went looking for him.”

The SPECTRE shrugged, “he’ll get it done, and I have a few cards left to play…anything else?”

“Yes, Garrus has joined the ranks of the SPECTRES.”

He grinned, “about time.  I figured he was getting bored at C-Sec.”

“The Council got some urgent news,” continued Kahlee, “we’ll be sending the both of you on an important series of missions…”

Shepard glanced at his wristwatch, “the session starts soon, anything you care to tell me now?”

She shook her head, “I promised I wouldn’t, and Councilor Aethyta always tells me I need to work on my poker face.”

He laughed, “don’t feel bad, she’s got nearly a thousand years on you.  The rest of us can’t tell.”

Kahlee sobered again, “Shepard, this isn’t a laughing matter…we’ll be putting you through the ringer again.  I hope you’re ready.”

Shepard got to his feet, issuing a crisp salute, “always, ma’am.”

She shook her head, getting to her feet as well, “no Crichton, friends do this…”

The Councilor offered her hand.  Shepard glanced down at it, gripping it firmly before shaking it.

They both had work to do…


	6. Clandestine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happens when the Galaxy tries to rebuild, in the wake of the Reaper War? In this post ME3 fic, I attempt to reconcile my version of ME3's ending, the Dark Energy Theory, and lend more credence of ME2 to the central plot.
> 
> Old legacies still echo, demanding retribution, and new trouble looms for our heroes. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 6

The Citadel Security forces were responsible for keeping order on an installation the size of a planet.  With so many different races and cultures constantly filtering through the Citadel, diplomatic nightmares seemed to be a daily occurrence.

C-Sec Commander Armando Owen-Bailey sat in his swivel chair, staring out the bulletproof glass at the Presidium, which housed all the embassies below.  He didn’t note the shimmering lake, nor the exotic plants imported from hundreds of planets.  All the artifice had been crafted with delicate care to allow for the coexistence of disparate species.  All those resources, all that effort, had been expended to create mental ease and well-being.

Bailey pinched the bridge of his nose, turning in his chair to view the two individuals sitting across the table from him.  In light of everything he’d just considered, he hoped his associates could understand how truly agitated his “well-being” currently was.  The officer considered an edifying lecture.

Bailey frowned at the drell before him.  The young man had light green skin, was clad in black leather, and had a detached look about him.  Kolyat Krios betrayed no emotion at all.  It didn’t bother the Commander that Kolyat’s reptilian eyes rarely needed to blink.  A decade working Citadel Security had drummed such reservations from him long ago.

He shook his head again, scratching at the eye-patch that covered one of his eyes.  The requisition was in for his cybernetic replacement, but he could never seem to free up the time for the surgery.

He glared with his good eye at Krios, “son, you are here because Investigator Parasini needs your unique set of skills.”

“Anything I should know?” rasped Kolyat.

Bailey shook his head, “better to let the Inspector tell you, it’s not the kind of thing that needs to be aired around.  Just thinking about it is giving me ulcers…”

A striking young brunette smiled back at him.  She was wearing a no-nonsense business suit, the kind that spoke to military precision, if not necessarily rank.  Gianna Parasini was one of the Internal Security forces that worked with C-Sec from time to time.  Her job primarily dealt with white-collar crimes.

“Contrary to popular belief, sometimes, my work involves more than just paperwork and fancy parties.”

“Apparently,” rasped the drell, “so why do you need me?”

“I needed the best, and Commander Bailey suggested you…though not by name, of course.”

It wasn’t common knowledge that he was the son of the late Thane Krios, a master assassin.  Most people who knew about Thane were in the Hanar hierarchy, and not willing to talk.  Others who might know were dead, and unable to speak in any case.

Kolyat clearly had no desire to educate her on the matter, “I’m sure you, especially, can appreciate the need for discretion, so what’s the mission?”

Gianna tossed him a dossier, “some of those faces should be familiar.”

The drell picked up the file, flipping through actual pages, “huh.”

Parasini smirked, “yeah, I know, old school, but I didn’t want to leave a trail, so burn that after you are done reading it.  I trust you won’t have trouble remembering?”

Krios glanced through the readouts.  Like the rest of his species, Kolyat had innate perfect memory.  It allowed him to recall anything he desired, and sometimes things he didn’t.  His people called it ‘Solipsism.’

The drell came across the picture of a dour looking man with a thin mustache.

“Elias Kelham?  He’s still alive?”

Gianna nodded, “yeah, he’s been operating under the radar of late.  I understand he used to be more of a known presence.”

“You could say that,” replied Bailey, “I think I preferred it when he was a trumped up hoodlum, paying assassins to do his dirty work.”

Kolyat’s lips twitched slightly, having been one of those trigger-men in the past.  Fortunately, the correspondences had always been via courier, so nobody would ID him anytime soon.

“He’s started building up his forces,” clarified Parasini, “governing street law as determined by his new associate…”

Kolyat turned to the next page, seeing a nondescript man with pepper gray hair.  His smile was all too familiar, and clearly affected.

“Charles…Saracino…the leader of Terra Firma?”

Parasini sighed, “of late, the party’s dealings have become…distressing.”

“‘Humanity First’ has always been their creed,” said Bailey, “a backlash from before the Reaper War, they say, when their opponents openly campaigned as anti-Human.”

“This is different,” said the Inspector, “Saracino is putting away more money than needed to support his run for Office.”

Kolyat started flipping through manifests for black market shipments.  There was no hard evidence, but unmarked containers arriving from the Terminus rarely turned out to be anything but contraband.

“So what’s his angle?” asked Kolyat, “he’s using diplomatic status to smuggle goods for his new friend Kelham?”

“Perhaps in an effort to buy votes,” continued Gianna, “and probably more.  Imagine if he gets Kelham weapons and drugs enough to control any underworld traffic in Citadel space.”

Kolyat nodded, following the reasoning, “gets in bed with the gangsters, campaigns on cracking down on crime.  Kelham forces out the competition, so the public thinks his plan is working…”

“But all we are really getting is more powerful, more organized crime, potentially with control over everything else as well,” finished Bailey, “trust me, we don’t need people like THEM holding our strings.”

Kolyat nodded, “indeed, it seems you’ve finally managed to break in the current Council…tolerating yet another parade of politicians doesn’t seem…tenable.”

Bailey sniffed, “well, I DID help them organize the militia Shepard left in our hands.  Things are finally working right again…”

Gianna grinned, “from what I hear, Councilor Sparatus owes you an eye, after saving him from a tussle against the Reapers.”

“Maybe,” the Commander grinned, before sobering, “seriously though, we don’t know the scope of what we are dealing with…”

“We’ll be stepping on the toes of very well connected people,” Gianna nodded, “I didn’t expect to find such a hornet’s nest…”

“I’ll be careful Investigator,” said Kolyat, nodding at Parasini.

Bailey sighed, shaking his head, “good luck, son…”

***********************

Red and blue neon reflected off the sleek metal vistas of the Upper Wards.  The Terra Firma party was holding a rally.  The crowd gathered was more varied than Kolyat would have thought.  Of course the overly zealous fanatics were there, cheering.  Quite a few non-humans were present as well, either apologists or opponents to the radicals.

All of it was background noise.  Kolyat had donned a large hooded duster.  He preferred the anonymity it provided.  If nobody looked closely behind his scarf, one couldn’t discern his species at all.  The proceedings seemed to be coming to a close.  Kolyat didn’t care; he wasn’t here for the rally anyway.

According to Investigator Parasini, Saracino liked to frequent a bar nearby, most likely to hide his dealings.  Unfortunately, it was invite only, and locked up fairly tight, even for Kolyat.  Most times, such a thing wouldn’t have stopped him, but this wasn’t a hit, it was recon, and he needed…a defter touch.

The drell calmly made his way to the outskirts of the crowd, catching sight of what he was looking for.  Kolyat smiled, drawing up to an unobtrusive group of street urchins.  They started to scatter as he approached, but settled after he whistled to them.

“Greetings, little cousins,” said Kolyat.

The youths nodded back at him.  It was a code among the Duct Rats.  They were the forgotten and overlooked children, who made their homes in the invisible corners of the Citadel.  It made them the best spies.  And Mouse, one of their few elders, a leader, had been a friend for a while now.

Kolyat hefted a few credits towards one of the lads, “for Mouse’s trouble.”

He grinned, bringing out another small bag, “and for yours…”

Krios had something of a kinship with the Duct Rats, and couldn’t help spoiling them with candy once in a while.  Money could be taken, but nobody was going to hassle them over sweets.  They nodded to him, all taking eager note.

“How many you want on this?” asked one of the older children.

“One should suffice,” he replied, drawing out a small listening device, and a transmitter, “need someone to plant this on the politician, then stay in range to pick up audio.”

One of the smaller children snatched both pieces of tech from Kolyat, “try to keep up…cousin!”

In a flash, the child was gone.  As trained as Kolyat was in espionage and stealth, he barely saw the Duct Rat vanish into the crowd.  Krios nodded, placing a second receiver in his ear.  

Kolyat keyed in on Elias Kelham, who seemed to be head of security.  It was a front, of course, but that hardly mattered.  Before long, Saracino finished his speech, joining Kelham’s “security detail” as he exited the stage.

“I’m done with the crowd,” grunted the politician, “I have a meeting to attend.”

"We're good to go," Kelham nodded, “follow me…”

The drell raised an eyebrow.  He was already hearing the conversation.  That was fast work, and well done.  Kolyat reminded himself to pay the Duct Rat a little extra when this was over…

Kolyat followed the pair, avoiding sight of the thugs in tow.  He couldn’t help but notice the silence.  Saracino wasn’t speaking, not even the slightest of vague pleasantries to constituents, just waves and nods.  Something was on the man’s mind…

All too soon, they entered the bar and club.  Kolyat saw a wisp of a shadow slip into the vents nearby.  He listened to his earpiece, but got only static.  The spy clucked his tongue in disappointment.

Well, he’d expected as much.  He’d just have to get the particulars from the device he’d handed the Rat, once the meeting was over…


	7. Old Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happens when the Galaxy tries to rebuild, in the wake of the Reaper War? In this post ME3 fic, I attempt to reconcile my version of ME3's ending, the Dark Energy Theory, and lend more credence of ME2 to the central plot.
> 
> Old legacies still echo, demanding retribution, and new trouble looms for our heroes. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 7

The approach to the Council chambers was a measured one.  The Citadel was such an old structure, Shepard could not be sure what the original plans were for the construction.  However, the image presented to visitors was unmistakable, one of grace and power.  The entrance to the ramp was perfect, a manicured lawn surrounding the immaculate bridge.  On either side, the pristine blue water of an artificial lake shimmered.

Shepard made his approach, presenting his credentials to the security gate, before making his way into an elevator.  The approach to the anteroom was no less impressive.  The elevator rocketed into the Heavens, it seemed, affording its guests a breathtaking view of the Presidium, the lush, uppermost ward of the Citadel.  The SPECTRE was sure the landscape was meant to astonish, but he’d made the trip too many times to gape in awe.

“Kind of loses its grandeur, once you’ve seen it destroyed,” he whispered.

Beside him, Liara nodded, “although I can’t help but appreciate the view, considering what it took to rebuild it.  Saving the Galaxy was no small task…”

Shepard grunted, appreciating Liara’s attempts to assuage his guilt.  He couldn’t help but see the flames that had once dominated the vistas.  Not for the first time, the visions of his past began to blur together.

The elevator stopped, jarring Shepard from his trance.  He turned from the windowed view outside, walking out into the foyer of the Council Hall.  He glanced skyward, noting the pink petals of the trees above, covering the skyline.  Though he knew they were not native to Earth, Shepard couldn’t help but think the foliage seemed like that of the cherry blossom trees that bloomed back home.

“Well,” came a gravelly voice, “don’t you look official?”

Shepard turned with a grin, grasping hands with a tall scaly turian in silver and blue armor, “Garrus!  Good to see you!”

Garrus Vakerian brought his other arm to clap Shepard’s back in a quick hug, “good to see you out and about.”

“I heard they finally made you a SPECTRE,” smiled Shepard, “congratulations.”

Garrus cocked his head to the side, “well, turian command TRIED to make me a damn general…but…”

“You’re a terrible soldier,” recalled Shepard, “they tried the same with me.”

“I swear,” groaned Liara, “you two are masochists…”

Garrus laughed, clasping hands with the asari.

Shepard glanced behind Garrus, catching sight of a quarian in her full purple containment suit.  He was still getting used to seeing her without her face-mask; the effect was striking.  She brushed the dark hair from her face, revealing violet skin, like fine porcelain.

“Glad to see the immunizations are working for you.  How’ve you been Tali?”

Tali’s hands lifted from her hips, drawing Shepard up in an embrace, “you boshtet! Why haven’t I seen you?  Liara and I go out almost every week!”

Shepard chuckled, calmly backing away, “sorry Tali, the Council’s been running me ragged; Garrus too, from what I hear.”

Tali glanced downwards, somberly, “yes, the Admiralty has been trying to do much the same to me.”

“Well,” offered Garrus, “she IS an admiral.”

“In name only,” countered Tali, “I’d rather not take responsibility for an entire fleet!”

“So what brings you here?” asked Liara.

“Overseeing Zaal’Koris’ appointment to the Council,” said Tali, “as well as…the new geth ambassador…”

Shepard arched an eyebrow, “geth ambassador?”

The Quarian sighed, running a hand over her hood, “it’s a long story…”

Shepard nodded, as Garrus took him aside.  The human SPECTRE noticed Garrus’ subtle gesture to Liara, as the asari started up a conversation with Tali.  The two SPECTRES moved over to a balcony overlooking the Presidium.  Hovercars glimmered in the distance, darting far above the cityscape below.

“So,” started Shepard, “how are things between you and Tali?”

Garrus sniffed, shaking his head, “the shy kid you recruited during that mess with Saren?  She’s completely gone; and in her place is a strong-minded firebrand of a woman.  Not that I’m complaining.”

Shepard couldn’t help but notice the wry grin on Garrus’ face, elbowing him in the ribs, “you seem to be doing alright.”

“Mmm, I’m more worried about how I’m going to explain our assignments.  There are some strange things going on out there.”

He nodded, “I know.  The Council swears that we killed the Reapers, so it’s only a matter of time before the cleanup is done on the Remnant.”

“Evil like that doesn’t vanish overnight,” replied Garrus, “in the meantime, we have holdouts to deal with, watch your back…”

Shepard nodded, arching an eyebrow, as he caught sight of something, “hello, is that…Bakara?”

“Yeah,” Garrus grunted, “and who’s that with her?”

The human looked beside the tall krogan woman clad in robes, to the larger male krogan beside her.  He was adorned in old gray armor, dark green robes flowing from facets in the breastplate.

Shepard grinned, as both of them neared, “Shaman Urdnot!  What brings you to the citadel?”

“It’s nice to see you, Bakara,” added the turian, with a small bow of the head.

Bakara tilted her head as well, “ah Garrus, Wrex never tires of regaling me with tales of his exploits with you and Shepard…like an old man recounting his glory years…”

“He can’t be THAT past his prime,” Shepard laughed, “how many children do you have so far?”

“Indeed,” she laughed, “you’ll have to come see them sometime.”

Shepard nodded, “next time I drop by Tuchanka, how is the terraforming?”

“Tuchanka is a stubborn planet,” replied the Shaman, “much like the krogan.  But we are rebuilding and expanding…which is what brings us here today…”

“We nominated him for the krogan seat on the Council,” explained Bakara.

“I hear it was you who put the fool notion in her head,” joked the krogan male.

“Guilty as charged,” Shepard grinned.

“Anything I should know about the Councilors?” asked the Shaman.

“Sparatus is an old hand at this; and Escheel is sharp, though a bit culturally myopic,” offered Garrus, “they can be stubborn, but they aren’t stupid.”

Bakara laughed, “and the humility they had to swallow during our war with the Reapers has been good for them.”

“I know the new asari Councilor,” replied Shepard, “she’s ex-military, and sharp as a tack.  The crazy half-krogan tends to be more proactive than others of her race, which is refreshing in a Matriarch.”

The Shaman smiled, “I like her already…” 

A polite chime drew their attention from the conversation.

“Well,” said Garrus, “looks like the Council is in session.”

“Good luck,” said Shepard.

“You as well,” replied Bakara, “from all reports, you will need it more than we will…”


	8. Enter the Paladins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happens when the Galaxy tries to rebuild, in the wake of the Reaper War? In this post ME3 fic, I attempt to reconcile my version of ME3's ending, the Dark Energy Theory, and lend more credence of ME2 to the central plot.
> 
> Old legacies still echo, demanding retribution, and new trouble looms for our heroes. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 8

Charles Saracino sat in a lounge with no windows.  It was one of the bar’s VIP rooms, supposedly for “special services” rendered by the dancers, or for private parties and poker games.

He wasn’t intending to use the room for any such purposes.  Near the end of the Reaper War, the Chairman had found himself in a position to garner wayward Cerberus resources.  At the time, he had feared being branded a traitor by his own people.  On hindsight, it was such actions that had raised him to his current position…

The politician was seated at a circular table.  The lamp suspended above cast a cone of light, but failed to illuminate the rest of the room.  Just behind him, Elias Kelham stood guard.

“Not long now,” said Saracino, checking his watch, a genuine analog from Earth.

As if on queue, holograms coalesced around the table, projected via a system of secure channels.  The four figures were shrouded, presumably to protect their identities.  One figure, the instigator of this summit, was in the center of the circle, the rest of them surrounded him.

Though wasn’t the first, these meetings still unnerved him; and always left a bad taste in his mouth.

“Paladins,” greeted the figure in the middle, “the Council should be convening any moment now.”

A vaguely masculine voice answered him.  The only thing Charles knew about the figure was that he was a batarian.  Even with the filtering, because of the mannerisms, the vocal cadence, he could tell.  Their two species had been at war far too long for the politician to misinterpret such a detail.

“I thought the human said they wouldn’t be a problem, isn’t Cerberus good for ANYTHING anymore?”

Saracino sneered at the holo, though he knew the alien on the other side couldn’t see it, “I’ll remind you that the bitch, Miranda Lawson, runs half of our former forces.  I’m working on picking up the remaining free hires.”

“I’m surprised she hasn’t managed to kill you,” replied the other, “you sure you aren’t in league with Shepard?”

The figure in the middle rippled at mention of the name.

Saracino allowed his bile to register in his reply, “don’t throw me in with him.  I wouldn’t be surprised if he shacked up with another alien, maybe even one of your own women…”

He paused a moment before laying the final dig, “that is, assuming you have any left on Karshaan, after the Reapers.”

Let the alien consider that, Saracino knew full well what he was dealing with, and perhaps even more…

The batarian’s growl was forceful enough to cause his image to flicker, “when I control all of our armies, I’ll be happy to-”

“ENOUGH!” echoed the voice in the center, “this bickering is pointless.”

A feminine voice chimed in response, “as…ardent as the two gentlemen were, they managed to raise a problem.  How do I know my effort amounts to anything?”

The fourth voice, modulated beyond the ability to tell even gender, agreed, “indeed, I am not in the habit of working with shades…at least not ones that aren’t in MY keeping…”

The voice in the center nodded, “though you may surmise, you cannot directly know each other’s identities yet.  However…”

The image became clearer, revealing brown, chitinous armor underneath flowing gray robes.  The figure was bipedal, insectoid.  Several pairs of glowing yellow eyes adorned the flat, emotionless, ashen face.

“Perhaps it is time you knew mine,” his speech became clearer, a deep, guttural voice that reverberated off the walls.

Shivers crawled up Saracino’s spine, “a Collector?!  I thought Shepard killed all of you!”

The eyes narrowed, “not all of us, an oversight he shall regret soon enough.”

“Well,” commented the female, in what Saracino could finally recognize was a quarian accent, “that certainly explains your ability to gather so many resources.”

Part of the reason Saracino had joined this cabal was the wealth of technology and intel they had provided.  Without the edge the Paladins offered, Saracino could never have risen from a mere enforcer, to effectively taking on the Illusive Man’s former mantle.

Even still, if not for that damnable Miranda Lawson, all of Cerberus would have been under his thumb.  As it was, her newly formed “Orthos” stood as an affront to everything he stood for.  But subservience wasn’t only an Alliance trait, the Reapers had engendered such behavior in their own thralls, which was distressing…

“A Collector,” mused the batarian, “how do we know you aren’t going to try and start another Reaper War?”

“I am Atrayus,” announced the Collector, “a General amongst our people, before the Reapers enslaved us.  They left a few of us with barely enough autonomy to control the rest.  I have since…broken free of my shackles.”

“Are there more of you?” asked the quarian.

“Soon enough…”

That didn’t sound ominous, the human thought sardonically, not at all.  Saracino ran a hand through his hair, breathing deeply.

“So, what do we do now?”

“You each have your assigned tasks,” said Atrayus, “human, you will undermine the Council’s efforts, biding your time while amassing more recruits to our cause.”

He turned to the batarian and Quarian respectively, “you each will continue with our experiments, allowing us to grow the power of our forces.”

Atrayus turned to the final figure, “and you salarians will continue researching the Dark Energy phenomena.”

The figure nodded, “yes, a power great enough to concern even the mighty Reapers is an asset we cannot afford to lose.”

“And what will you be doing?” demanded the batarian.

The Collector narrowed his eyes again, “I am working on an initiative to increase our attack forces, and blind our enemies.”

Atrayus glanced over each of the four members arrayed around him.  His translucent wings twitched as if in annoyance.

“Once you have accomplished our primary objectives, we strike,” asserted the Collector, “then you may snap at each others heels, and claim your corners of the universe.”

 

Lightyears away on the planet of Ilos…

Atrayus cut the feed with the disparate would-be rulers.  He took some smug satisfaction at their reactions.  It was cold comfort as he roamed the halls of the surrounding ruins.

In the amber glow of the halls about him, thousands of silent pods littered the walls.  The dead Protheans seemed to accuse him.  Why should he be alive, and not them?  Atrayus shook his head.  Soon, he would no longer be alone, and the universe would come to heel under the rule of the Great Empire once again…

 

In the wards of Citadel…

Saracino received an information packet via his omnitool as the holos faded, bringing the meeting to a close.

He almost choked as he saw the readouts.  The credits alone were staggering enough.  But the data caches were even more impressive, detailed technological schematics, and further resources that left him speechless.

Saracino left the room, Kelham and his detail clearing the way.  The politician’s mind didn’t even register the rest of the club, so deep was he in thought.  He brought out a cigarette as he exited the bar, shaking his head.

Elias Kelham flicked open a lighter for his associate, “so remind me why we’re in bed with these assholes?”

“This fragile alliance with the Council can’t last,” Saracino grunted, “we need the Paladins’ resources to consolidate what is left of Cerberus.  Only with power and order can humanity be safe.”

“The barbarians are at the gates,” Kelham nodded, “and ‘Orthos’ isn’t helping.”

“This tech will give us the edge we need,” continued Saracino, “besides, once we run the Citadel, it won’t matter who they are, nor what deals we’ve had to make.  The aliens can keep the Terminus, leaving humanity’s role secure.”

Elias Kelham was about to reply when he saw a glimmer on the side of Saracino’s coat sleeve; and the flickering shadow in the ventilation near the bar was like an alarm claxon going off in his head.

Kelham took out his pistol, an illegal silencer mod on it, and fired into the ductwork.  He then picked up the listening bug off Saracino’s coat, dropping it to the floor and stomping on it.

“You two, get him out of here!” he ordered, “and you three, come with me…”

*******************

It had happened so fast, Kolyat hadn’t had time to react.  He’d only just heard a few lines before Charles Saracino was rushed from the scene.

He stood transfixed, as the Cerberus thugs dragged out a young human girl’s corpse into the street.  Elias Kelham shook his head.

“Damn Duct Rats,” the man growled, “Mouse isn’t going to run any extortions on us…”

As Krios saw the thug put another round in the dead child’s skull, something in the drell broke.  Someone must have seen the event, because he heard screaming.  Kolyat sprang from his cover like a loaded gun, as the men turned around to find the source of the noise.  He needed to take them out fast, but the gun was too good for them…these men would suffer…

Kolyat rushed into the men with a biotic charge, leaping into the air as he drew close.  His right hand wrapped around a man’s throat, crushing it, before slamming the same fist into the ground.

“One…”

As the remaining three were flung in the air from his Nova blast, Kolyat flung another biotic field.  The Reave drained a second Cerberus operative, husking the man before the colliding fields shattered him in a biotic explosion.

“Two…”

The third Cerberus man, somehow, rose to his feet, drawing a gun.  Kolyat sidestepped the shot, circling around the assailant’s arm, pulling backwards at the elbow and breaking it in one fluid motion.

As the thug doubled over in pain, Kolyat wrapped his leg around the thug’s neck, bringing the larger man down with a crunch.  As he crouched, the drell squeezed his leg until he heard a snap, ceasing all movement from the gunman.

“Three…”

Elias Kelham was transfixed in horror, slowly bringing his gun up.  Kolyat almost laughed, gesturing with an arm, as he biotically lifted the man into the air.  The screaming had finally stopped, and Kolyat realized that it had been his voice all along.  He shook his head, his throat raw.

“Four…”

The gun fell from Kelham’s nerveless fingers, and Krios slowly got to his feet, drawing a knife as he sauntered up to the prone, aerial figure.

“Listen, I can-”

The knife made no sound as it entered Kelham’s chest, just under the sternum.  The man sputtered, coughing up blood.

“I’m sorry,” whispered Kolyat, “I can’t hear you…I believe humans need a diaphragm to breathe…and subsequently…to speak…”

Kelham’s eyes widened, rolling to the back of his sockets, his face turning blue from lack of oxygen.  His body dropped, twitching its final moments on the ground.  It was an agonizing way to die, but Kolyat didn’t stay to watch, turning instead to the dead child.

He shook his head, closing the girl’s eyes, as he placed her hands on her chest.

“Kalahira, mistress of inscrutable depths, I ask forgiveness…”

He closed his own eyes, shaking his head.  Four lives for one…it seemed too steep a price to pay.  The child was worth more.  A critical part in Kolyat’s mind concerned itself with how he would mask what had just happened.  There wasn’t enough time to clean the scene.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Krios turned, seeing a group of street toughs, drunkenly wandering out of the bar.  Likely, this was their territory.

“Fuckin’ aliens,” grunted a large one, drawing out a length of chain, “killing humans on our turf is a good way to die…”

Kolyat grinned from ear to ear, “well, THIS is convenient…”

He had his patsies…and it looked like the Duct Rat would have more souls to usher her to the sands beyond after all…


	9. Council Assignments

Chapter 9

The Galactic Council, per its namesake, represented the interests of the entire known galaxy.  The great hall was filled with pillars and balconies of gleaming metal, with seating for hundreds.  Every species had a representative on the Citadel, and most of these Ambassadors lobbied for the interests of their respective races.

The predominant power of the Council itself resided in its leaders, representing the asari, salarians, turians, and humans.  After what had seemed an interminably long process, two new members were being added to the larger governing body, representatives of the krogan and quarian homeworlds.

The Shaman of Clan Urdnot stood beside former Admiral Zaal’Koris.  Both of whom accepted their mantles to appropriate applause.

“Onto the first order of business,” called out Councilor Sanders, “I believe Councilor Zaal’Koris has a topic of importance concerning Rannoch?”

Zaal’Koris nodded, stepping up to the podium in the middle of the hall, “my fellow Councilors, the Quarian People wish to nominate a separate delegation, to represent a contingent of our citizens on Rannoch.”

Matriarch Aethyta of the asari nodded, as if already knowing the answer, “who is this delegate, and who are they representing?”

Koris gestured behind him, as a robotic construct, a geth, came forward to stand beside the quarian.  Shepard noted how the quarians shared many similarities with the geth, in shape.  Both had slender bodies, of approximate height.  The hinges on the back of their legs reminded him of turian physiology, the joints looked like the hind legs one would see on Earth’s horses.

After consideration, the design choice was logical.  After all, androids on earth had been built with humanlike appearances as well.

A low murmur traveled through the crowd at the introduction of the geth, a bright light emanating from the hood that comprised its head.

“Our…name is Proxy,” said the geth in a halting voice.

Shepard shook his head.  If he didn’t know any better, he’d almost think that the geth was…nervous.  Then again, he considered, the geth had attained true consciousness in the twilight of the Reaper War.  Though they themselves may not know it, the geth may very well be experiencing emotions they’d not before been accustomed to.

“Proxy?” asked the salarian Councilor, Esheel.

Shepard couldn’t help but muse on how the salarians looked the closest to the original “Gray Aliens” from old Earth-lore.  A less charitable person might make a comparison to a salamander.

He knew better, her predecessor had been resilient, and cunning.  When the Reapers had attacked the Citadel, Valern saved hundreds by consolidating the forces that Shepard himself had organized.  He'd died a hero.  The new Councilor, while shrewd, grated on him somewhat, relying on strongarm tactics as much as diplomacy.

Still, she got the job done, even if her methods were downright Machiavellian.  Shepard had to laugh at the irony of the thought.  Still, he supposed, politics changed little from culture to culture.

“…you’ll have to forgive Proxy, Councilor Esheel,” said Koris, “the geth are still getting used to the concept of individuality, and with it, naming conventions.”

Sparatus, the scaled, turian Councilor, nodded good naturedly.  It had been a long road to trust with him; but of the original Council, he alone had survived.  The old soldier was tough and honorable.

“Of course, the geth are welcome to have an embassy under the auspices of our friends from Rannoch,” replied Sparatus, “in light of all your service during the Reaper War.”

“But this isn’t Council status,” stated Aethyta, “and we need to protect our own backsides.  No geth gets access to the Citadel networks without permission, except for regular extranet use.”

The geth, Proxy, seemed nervous, whispering something to the quarian beside him.

Zaal’Koris nodded, “the Ambassador wishes to notify the Council that such an intrusion would be quite difficult for them.”

“Indeed?” prompted the human Councilor, Kahlee Sanders.

“Apparently,” continued Koris, “they tried something along those lines while we were rebuilding the Citadel, after the Reaper War ended.”

“Reaper updates to the Avina VI codes prevented widespread server access,” explained Proxy, “further attempts were rendered improbable without omnitool support, and an inordinate amount of time.”

“Apparently,” offered Zaal’Koris, “the Geth intended to present the Council with a method to maintain security against any such hacking attempts.  The fact that Avina, via the Crucible system upgrades, was able to block them…it seems to be a source of embarrassment.”

Proxy nodded, “we believe the experience was one of…wounded pride.  We apologize for the ineptitude, but anticipate greater understanding moving forward.”

The other councilors grinned.  Shepard could understand.  They’d been afraid of the geth, AI so complete as to be a new form of life.  How would they react to this life, and how would the geth react to organics?

However, ambition, pride, embarrassment, these were things all of them could understand.  Although Proxy was clearly put off by the set back, he’d probably done more to set the Council at ease than he realized.

“We look forward to it,” smiled Aethyta, stifling a chuckle.

“Now, onto the next matter of business,” started Kahlee, “Captain Shepard, Major Vakarian, please step forward…”

The two soldiers looked at each other, Shepard letting out a deep breath before stepping up to the podium.  He nodded to the quarian and geth delegates as he passed.

‘How many times have I stood in this damn spot,’ wondered Shepard, ‘and always because something needed fixing…’

“Councilor,” nodded Garrus.

“First of all,” started the Sparatus, “we’d like to commend the both of you, for your invaluable efforts during the Reaper War.  Without your valiant work, none of us would be here today.”

Shepard lightly dipped his head in reply, “we all had things we wanted to protect.”

Aethyta spared Shepard a wry grin, knowing his relationship with her daughter.  

“Of course,” she stated, “which is what brings us to our problems in the Terminus Systems, and the mess you are dealing with out on the Rim.”

“In short,” said Esheel, the salarian, “the Remnant seem to be well organized.  Efforts are becoming increasingly difficult, in the task of clearing out the remaining forces the Reapers left behind in their wake.”

The asari ambassador continued, “another damn problem is the Batarian Hegemony…”

Shepard could see the other Councilor’s visibly wince, though Aethyta didn’t seem to care.

Shepard had to stifle a grin, “I thought they were still rebuilding.”

Garrus nodded, “they got hit first, and hardest, when the Reapers arrived.”

“They did,” agreed Sparatus, “what concerns us is failure to send a representative to these hearings.  They've opened no negotiations for a batarian Embassy, nor requested aid in reconstruction.”

“Moreover,” added Sanders, “we’ve been receiving numerous reports of unrest.  asari border patrols report a rise in incursions, tying up all operations there."

"Thessia's ability to protect the systems is affected," Aethyta continued, "the hanar and elcor homeworlds are denying aide until we can support them.  They can barely defend their own borders."

"And it isn't just them," continued the salarian councilor, "batarian pirates and Remnant forces abound, adding to the unrest.  Frankly, it’s a diplomatic nightmare.”

Garrus shook his head, “but the Remnant aren’t supposed to have available space transport, are you saying they somehow acquired the skills to hijack ships?”

“We don’t know,” answered Aethyta, “which is why we are sending you to investigate.  Problem is, that’s not even all of it…”

Kahlee gestured behind Shepard, “the Council will now recognize the rachni delegation…”

Shepard turned, seeing the asari he had met, so long ago it seemed, on the surface of Illium.  She was wearing a flowing white gown.  A pair of worker rachni flanked her on either side.  Their green chitinous masses shuffled along the marble of the floor with hardly any sound.

The asari who represented the rachni delegatation glanced at Shepard.  She nodded, offering him a smile.

He nodded in reply, “good to see you again, do you still speak for the Queen?”

“We do, and She has been concerned with an outpost the rachni set up on the human colony of Feros.”

“Feros?” asked Garrus, “I thought they managed to stave off Reaper attacks during the war.”

“They did,” answered the delegate, “apparently, their contact with the Thorian enabled them to create their own hive mind, a gestalt which allowed them to resist Indoctrination attempts.”

“We’d heard that the colonists found it difficult to adjust to the new way of thinking,” offered Escheel, the salarian Councilor.

“Indeed, which is why a contingent of rachni went to help them understand and communicate within a larger collective.”

“Are you saying they failed?” asked Sparatus.

She shook her head, “no, they succeeded, but in the last week, Feros colony ceased contact with the other Queens, and subsequently, with me.”

Aethyta cocked her head to the side, “all FTL transmissions seem to be normal.”

“Yes, but rachni can communicate without the need for Mass relays, or FTL hubs,  
continued the delegate, “it is distressing for those of us who can hear the songs to be silent in this manner.”

The entire hall was eerily quiet.  What could have affected the colony so badly, that even the rachni were afraid?

“It seems we’ll need to be at many places at once,” said Shepard, breaking the silence, “I can’t go to Karshan to speak with the batarians, deal with the colony on Feros, AND address the Thessian border skirmishes.”

“Many of our agents are on the ground, gathering intel, and aiding in reconstruction,” chided Esheel, her brow furrowing, “but we are not without resources.”

“We’ve commissioned a command ship for Major Vakarian,” Sanders explained, “you will both take the Normandy to the new Grissom Academy, where Orthos has been developing the vessel, and retrieve the Dover.”

Shepard raised an eyebrow.  Orthos had really come up in the world.  Originally, Cerberus had been a black-ops wing of the Alliance military, before going rogue and becoming a splinter group.  After much of its forces had been Indoctrinated, Cerberus had been the face of the Reaper war many railed against, as the Reapers themselves had seemed too daunting.

However, many within Cerberus couldn’t turn a blind eye to reality.  During and after the Reaper War, the Human Alliance had re-acquired many of these Cerberus resources; before re-constituting the organization as Orthos, the Council sponsored human analog to the Council races' special forces.

Though many of the hard-liners had turned to mercenary work, or extortion, Shepard was glad to see the change in so many others.  Mankind needed a good face to show the Galaxy, especially with the political machinations of Humanity First roiling behind the scenes.

‘Those bastards claim they’re the friends of humanity,’ cursed Shepard, ‘but they’re just refusing to move on, to realize that the “aliens” are a part of our lives, as much as we are a part of theirs.’

Shepard was jarred from his thoughts again, as the Council session drew to a close.

“Watch your asses out there,” said Aethyta, “Goddess be with all of us…”


	10. Familiar Beginning

Chapter 10

Whenever Shepard stood on the bridge of the Normandy, it felt like coming home.  Thinking on it, he’d spent more of the last few years on this bridge than anywhere else, save the Captain’s quarters.

In the center of the bridge, a large display showed a digital representation of the entire Galaxy.  Shepard mused as he glanced at the various hotspots, areas in need of Council assistance.

He sighed, “didn’t think I’d still be alive after the last war.  I’m surprised you all haven’t moved on to other assignments.”

He looked to his right, down at his communications officer, an attractive tan brunette, and a genius in technical engineering as well.

Samantha Traynor smiled at him, replying in her English drawl, “nonsense Captain.  You’re smart, lucky, and I’m pretty sure you cheat.  The Reapers never had a chance.  What else could we want in a commander?”

The SPECTRE laughed, “point taken, but thank you all the same.”

“I think we’re coming up on Grissom Academy.”

Shepard nodded, stepping away from the Galaxy Map, “Let me know if anything comes up.”

As he made his way towards the cockpit, Shepard could already hear Joker bantering with the ship’s AI, the recipient of the pilot’s unending romantic fixation.

“I’m telling you EDI,” groaned Joker, “you’re worrying for nothing.  The Captain got the hard part squared away.  These new mission details are just working out the kinks.”

“I admire your confidence, Jeff,” replied the lithe AI seated next to Joker, speaking in calm, dulcet tones, “but we should not take this mission lightly.”

To Joker’s left, David Archer nodded his reply, “you should be careful.”

The pilot shook his head, groaning, “oh great, the ‘AI whisperer’ is concerned as well.”

“Go easy on them Joker,” said Shepard, “they’re just worried.  Granted, I don’t anticipate as much drama as the run to Ilos, but we should be on our toes.”

“Yeah,” admitted the pilot, “and I guess nothing’s ever really so simple when you’re around.”

“There’s that too,” quipped the SPECTRE, “but apparently it’s my luck and ability to cheat.”

Shepard smiled, looking at David, “how do you like it aboard the ship?”

Archer nodded, “it’s beautiful.  But I’m looking forward to being back at the Academy again.”

“Right, I suppose Grissom WAS your home for the last few years, and you met someone there as well.  What was her name?”

David grinned sheepishly, “Talitha…”

Shepard nodded, “huh, I knew a Talitha.  We both grew up on Mindoir.”

“I know Captain,” replied David, “we met each other because of you.”

“Really?”

“Apparently,” chimed in EDI, “the other students at the Academy learned about their relationship to you...”

“And you found each other?” finished Shepard.

The young man nodded coyly, “sorry…”

The soldier clapped a hand on David’s shoulder, “it’s nothing to apologize for.  This is a good thing.”

“Coming up on Grissom,” said Joker, lowering the cockpit’s blast shields, so they could see the approach without the need for sensor displays.

The new Grissom Academy was a hulking space complex, stationed in orbit around one of Eden Prime’s moons.  The planet had once been a sprawling utopia, a testament to the power and success of Humanity’s best.  The Reaper War had devastated the world.  The newly formed Orthos had taken up residence on the moon overlooking Eden Prime, and had been instrumental in the ongoing reconstruction.

Shepard could see ships going back and forth along the dockyards stationed in Eden Prime’s orbit, transports relaying supplies from the planet’s surface to the Orthos base on the moon, and finally to the newly reconstructed Grissom Academy.

“Well,” quipped Shepard, “we always seem to come back here.”

Joker groaned again, “yeah, and it always ends in trouble.  Here’s hoping the Geth and the Protheans leave well enough alone this time.  I don’t get hazard pay.”

“We…PAY you?” scoffed the Captain, “whatever for?”

“That was a joke,” chimed EDI, smirking at the exasperation on the pilot’s face.


	11. Old Battles, New Ships

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 11

In a docking bay on Eden Prime’s moon, a pair of SPECTRES looked at two of the most advanced ships in the galaxy.

The Normandy’s sleek hull shimmered against the light emanating from the planet below.  Beside it, the Dover stood at rest, waiting for its first official mission.

“So,” mused Garrus, “I finally get my own ship, huh?”

Shepard grinned, “you’ve earned it.  I hear that more of the old crew is joining up for the mission.”

The turian shrugged, “they’re just as likely to join your crew as mine.  The Dover may be a fine detail, but Normandy is still the ship we all remember serving on.”

“You’ll make a good Commanding Officer.”

“You sure about that?” replied the turian.

Shepard looked at his longtime friend pointedly, “Garrus, we’ve all made mistakes…look at what happened to me on Elysium.”

“You saved the entire colony single handedly.”

“But not my squad,” replied Shepard, “and we lost people in the Reaper War…good people.  Do you know what James Vega asked me, when he was up for N7 commendation?”

Garrus shook his head.

“Why was he being considered, considering he’d gotten his whole team wiped out?”

“And what did you say?”

Shepard looked off into space, the battles of his life playing before his eyes…

“Command NEEDS leaders who’ve served through those kinds of Hell,” he stated, “like Admiral Hackett said, without those experiences to forge us…”

“We can’t lead our men through it,” reasoned Garrus, “when Hell comes knocking on our door again.”

Shepard nodded.

“That’s a very turian way of looking at things.”

The man grinned, “what can I say?  I’ve had this hard-case of a friend tagging along for the last five years or so.”

Garrus let out a deep breath, turning to the ship that would be his new command, “this one looks more like a turian Dreadnought, though it’s about this same size as Normandy.”

Shepard nodded, “apparently, Miranda’s engineers tried out a few new things with this one.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, it seems they tried to cater to your meticulous nature with the weapons systems…although I doubt you’ll have time for all those… ‘calibrations.’”

“Why ever not?” mused the turian.

“Well,” offered an accented quarian voice from behind them, “I’m sure that I’d have something to say about it.”

Shepard turned to Tali, who sauntered up in her familiar purple body suit, and grinned.

“Besides, spend too much time away from her, and she’s likely to get jealous.”

Garrus laughed, “you don’t understand, she’s the only other one who’d spend as much time working on the ship as I used to.”

The quarian woman nodded to Shepard, before drawing next to Garrus, sidling up to the turian. 

“So,” she mused, “that’s our new ship?”

Another voice joined them, “you guys get all the fun toys.”

The trio turned to face a large hulking man, calmly walking towards them in an Officer’s uniform.  James Vega constantly tugged at the collar, as if unused to the outfit.

“James,” laughed Shepard, “N7 has you traipsing around Grissom Academy?”

“Don’t get me started loco,” groaned Vega, “they stationed me over here to keep Orthos honest.”

“They don’t trust Miranda?” asked Tali, “I know she can be a bitch sometimes, but…”

“I know Sparks,” he replied, “and it’s not like I need to watch over Jacob, straight-shooter that he is.”

“Taylor?” wondered Garrus, “I’m surprised Miranda’s letting him take over ANY of the responsibilities.”

“Scars, you don’t know the half of it,” started James, “now her little sister works here too.  And to top it all off, I’ve been escorting another Council SPECTRE to oversee operations.”

“Orianna?” asked Shepard, “I suppose that makes sense, but why send another SPECTRE?”

Vega shrugged, “the Council figured you could use some extra crew on this run.  Apparently, she also brought over an officer from turian Spec Ops for Garrus’ ship.”

“I imagine having a largely Orthos populated crew would be disconcerting for High Command,” offered Garrus, “I suppose it makes sense.  So, who’s the other SPECTRE?”

Vega grinned, “you’ll see, she’s waiting for permission to board the Normandy.  And our old buddy Cortez is piloting the Dover, shaking down the engines as we speak.”

“Speaking of,” prompted Shepard, “why ‘Dover?’”

“We thought it appropriate,” explained Garrus, “you know us turians, big military buffs.  So, of course, we took a look at some of the large scale wars in human history.”

Shepard nodded, “right.  Normandy was named after a key battle in one of Earth’s largest wars.”

“Indeed,” continued Garrus, “and instrumental to the success of that battle was another battle, waged simultaneously…”

“At the Cliffs of Dover,” finished Shepard, “an interference op run concurrently.  It spread the Axis forces thin, allowing the Allies to carve a foothold in enemy territory.”

“We got you covered,” stated Tali, “even if we can’t be there in person.”

Shepard laughed, “no Shepard without Vakerian eh?”

“That’s still true,” said Garrus, “and now, Normandy has the Dover to watch its back.”

Crichton nodded, glancing at Garrus and Tali, “well then, no time like the present…”

Tali grasped Shepard in a vise, squeezing him tightly, “you be careful out there.”

He patted her head, smiling reassuringly, before turning to shake hands with Vega and Garrus.

“I wish I was going with you loco.”

“You have more important work,” replied Shepard, “make sure our people get to where they’re needed.”

Garrus gripped Shepard’s arm firmly, “watch it out there, you won’t have my dashing good looks to get you out of a jam.”

Crichton grinned, “I’ve dealt with the 'space spiders' before, remember?”

The turian rolled his eyes, “at least let me go to the batarians.  They don’t have the same bad blood with my people, and you in particular, for that matter.”

“You have a job out in the Terminus,” shrugged Shepard, “I can head to Omega once I’m done with Feros.  Maybe we can visit the Hegemony with both ships.”

Garrus nodded, “no place like my old stomping grounds…”

“Well, try not to stomp on as many necks this time,” quipped Vega, “you won’t have me around to pull your sorry asses out of the fire…”


	12. Like Old Times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 12

Garrus watched as the Normandy left, carrying with it memories of his past exploits.

He laughed, “you could have just told him Ashley was the other SPECTRE.”

“And spoil the surprise?” demanded Vega, “not on your life Scars.”

Tali shook her head, leaning against Garrus, “I see you haven’t lost your funny way with names.  Why am I ‘Sparks’ again?”

“Er,” blushed Vega, “uhm, because you’re jumpy, and your helmet’s shiny…right?”

“Are you discriminating against a quarian Admiral, Officer Vega?”

“Uhm, NO!” foundered the poor man, “you know it’s not like that Tali…I mean Admiral…I…uhm…”

Garrus chuckled, “huh, you actually put him at a loss for words.  He can usually bullshit his way out of anything.”

Tali patted Vega on the shoulder, “it’s alright James, I’m kidding.”

“Oh, right,” spattered the large man, “haha…”

Before Garrus could embarrass the poor human any further, a chime rang out on the turian’s omnitool.

He tapped the button on his wrist, and his right arm was surrounded in a yellow holographic interface.  A screen resolved above his arm, showing him the face of an attractive young brunette.

“Orianna Lawson,” said the turian, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

The woman nodded, “glad to see you Major Vakarian, sorry it’s on short notice, but I’ve got something urgent.  My sister just received an incomplete transmission from one of our agents out past the Terminus Systems.”

“Did it get garbled during FTL communications?” asked Tali, “usually the Mass Relay networks are more reliable.”

“I don’t know Admiral Zorah,” answered the woman, “someone may have tried to jam the signal.  What I DO know is that the entire squad we sent out died trying to broadcast the transmission.”

“Where the hell were they?” demanded Vega.

“Don’t know,” said Orianna, “the message was encoded within a data packet.  One of our communications hubs, a few Relay Jumps from here, should have saved a backup before sending it out.”

“Did you send someone out to get the package?” continued Garrus.

Orianna nodded, “My sister sent our chief technical advisor, Kasumi Goto.  She gave us what little knowledge she had, before her feed was cut.  She said she needed backup.”

“Damn it,” spat Garrus, “Kasumi doesn’t spook easily, how soon until the Dover is ready?”

“Miranda and Zaeed Massani are currently loading the crew onto the ship,” said Orianna, “and the turian Officer helping us with the weapons systems is already there as well.”

“So, you’re just waiting for us,” said Garrus, “we’re on our way.”

“Is Miranda sure she wants to come?” asked Tali, “doesn’t she have work here?”

The Quarian didn’t HATE the head of Orthos, she just didn’t know if the woman would see eye to eye with her, considering past history between Cerberus and the Quarian Flotilla.

“Jacob Taylor and I have things well in hand,” answered Orianna.

“Besides,” issued Miranda’s voice, “I didn’t trust anybody else but Kasumi with the Orthos ciphers…”

“So we may need on-the-spot decrypting,” reasoned the quarian, “I’ll make sure to start working on a translation algorithm as soon as I’m on board, if you’re ready for me.”

“I’d be grateful, Tali,” replied Miranda, “see you when you get here…”

“Well,” laughed Garrus, “it’s just like old times again.”

“Keelah,” swore Tali, “I hope not…”


	13. Hidden Agendas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 13

The Normandy was a storied ship, its name drawing quite a reputation across the Galaxy.  To Shepard, it was home, and whenever he returned home, he liked to inspect it.  Though minimal effort was required for the ship to function, the crew of the Normandy worked hard to make sure that it excelled, constantly caring for it and adding improvements.

It was this last fact that had brought Shepard down into Engineering.  He held a bemused expression on his face, as Ken Donnely and Gabriella Daniels, the ship's engineers, debated on improvements.

Shepard laughed, catching the both of them by surprise, “you two bicker like a married couple.”

“I have witnessed Officer Donnely engage in such courtship behavior all day, Shepard,” chimed EDI over the intercom.

“It’s just a way of easing the tension girl,” protested the male engineer.

“Would that be considered ‘foreplay?’” quipped the AI.

Gabriella and Shepard smirked at the Donnely, who blushed while fumbling in his attempts to explain things to EDI.

“…and stop listening to Joker about human behavior,” finished the ginger haired man, “that scunner wouldn’t know ‘normal’ if it bit him in the arse…”

Shepard shook his head, chuckling, "carry on you two…”

The SPECTRE grinned as left the engineering room, heading towards the starboard cargo hold.  He knocked before entering the room, which had now been re-purposed into a small communications room, with several monitors mounted along the bulkhead.

Shepard nodded to the woman dressed in dark blue military fatigues, “settling in Ms. Ashley Williams?”

The woman nodded, “just filing a report to the Council, I’m sure you remember those.”

He groaned in reply, “ugh, well, at least the current Council is more agreeable than in the old days.”

Ashley smirked, “true enough.”

“So, I like the new look,” he said, gesturing to the ponytail she now sported, “kind of reminds me of when we first met.”

The female SPECTRE laughed, “thank God I don’t have to pander to the politicians anymore.  I kept the eyeliner, but lost the rest of it.  I feel more like a soldier now, not some painted peacock…”

Shepard laughed again, “well, I’m sure there was some purpose to it all.”

Ashley sniffed, “sure, get possible assailants to look as my ass rather than my gun.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure they were checking out your guns too,” he quipped wryly.

“I got enough of this from Vega,” she groaned, “you jackass…”

Shepard raised an eyebrow, “jackass…?”

“Sir…” Ashley laughed.

“So,” she continued, “what brings you to my room, just doing the rounds?”

He nodded, “I’m also looking for a new XO.”

Ashley furrowed her eyebrows, “you want ME for second-in-command?”

“Why not?” shrugged the Captain, not understanding her hesitation.

The woman shook her head, “it just…I don’t think I’m ready for that responsibility, and I’ve got my duties to the Council to think about.”

“You more than qualify,” Shepard cocked his head to the side, “this isn’t like you Ash…is anything wrong?”

Williams sighed for a moment, seeming on the cusp of saying something, then shook her head, “I’m sorry sir…I need some time…”

Shepard nodded, “alright, it isn’t an immediate concern.  But until I find someone worthy, my offer stands…deal?”

Ashley nodded, “thank you sir…”

She ran her hands through her hair, massaging her temples, as Shepard left her office.

Ashley couldn’t tell him…not after her betrayals over the past few years.  Shepard had saved her life, and she’d repaid him by rejecting his plea for help, leaving him alone to stop the Collectors.  When the Reaper War had started, she’d still had misgivings about his Cerberus ties.

As ashamed as she was to admit it, she’d still treated him like a poisoned pill.  She couldn’t help feeling like a hypocrite, considering what she was now being asked to do…

A chime issued on Ashley’s intercom, shaking her from her thoughts.  She routed the call to the large viewing monitor before her.  A blue asari in a white jumpsuit and coat appeared on the screen.

“Hello Liara,” said Ashley, “calling to check in?”

Contrary to her naturally sunny demeanor, Liara wasn’t smiling, “is there anything you want to tell me?”

Despite what many thought of her, Ashley wasn’t stupid.  Her time with the SPECTRE’s had ingrained in her the need to use her mind as a weapon as often as her sidearm.  Which is why it took her no time at all to realize…

“You know…” gasped Ashley, “the real reason I’m here…”

Liara glared at Ashley, in a gaze that pierced her very soul, “no, I guessed…I didn’t KNOW until just now…”

“Did you mother…did Councilor Aethyta-“

“My FATHER,” interjected Liara, “as you well know, does not care to be involved in sectarianism, or scandal…we respect each other too much for that.  I’m just a very good information broker…”

Ashley nodded, “then you know Liara, it wasn’t your father’s wishes.”

“I’m sure she didn’t like the idea of going behind Shepard’s back,” reasoned Liara, “any more than Sparatus.  Escheel doesn’t know much better though, right?  And they still have to be sure, don’t they?”

The uncomfortable silence lasted a bit longer.

“So, how far are you authorized to take this?” asked the asari.

Williams said nothing, the officer in her refusing to openly divulge State secrets.  Besides, she didn’t really need to say anything, as they both knew the answer.

Liara sighed, allowing weariness to replace anger, “a full disavowal…after everything he’s done?”

She shook her head, “by the Goddess, after what the BOTH of you have done for them?  And YOU accepted this?”

Ashley curled her lip in defiance, “better me than someone who doesn’t know him!  I care about him, I won’t just cut and run at first chance.”

“No,” countered Liara, “no, because you’ve done that enough times already…”

Ashley’s face turned stone cold, a dangerous edge creeping into her voice, “you don’t mean that Liara…”

Liara remained silent, allowing the tension to build…

She shook her head, sighing again, “perhaps not…but do you really think a knife in his back will feel any better coming from you?”

Willams paused, allowing herself to calm down, “I suppose not…so what now…I leave?”

The asari shook her head, “no…because as much as I hate to admit it…he’ll need you out there.  Another gun at his side, where we’re going, could mean the difference between life and death.”

Ashley leaned back in her chair, relaxing visibly, “thank you Liara…”

“Don’t thank me,” she replied, “I expect you to come clean with Shepard…soon…you owe him that much.”

The SPECTRE nodded, “I understand.”

“And forget about your orders from the Council,” Liara warned, “because if you try anything…”

Ashley narrowed her eyes at the screen, “is that a threat?”

“Honestly Ashley, you know me better,” the asari raised her hands, “and do you really think I could stop Jack, even if I wanted to?   She’d come after you so fast, the rest of us would blue shift…”

Liara had delivered the last barb with a hint of humor and candor, instead of cold anger, which would have left another splinter on Ashley’s conscience.  Willams tipped her head in gratitude, acknowledging the gesture.

****************

“Don’t waste this opportunity,” said Liara T’Soni, before cutting off the feed, allowing Ashley to consider her options.

The asari turned to another viewing screen, Jack’s image showing on the monitor, “did you get all that?”

“Yeah,” spat the woman, once known as Subject Zero, “I knew there was a reason I hated that bitch.  At least the cheerleader had more balls.”

“Play nice,” chided Liara, “we don’t need Shepard getting distracted, he’s got enough to worry about.”

“Do they really think he’s Indoctrinated?”

Liara shrugged, “he hasn’t been the same since the war ended.”

“Hell! Who has?!” demanded Jack, “you don’t forget that shit overnight, God damn it!”

“I guess they have to be sure.”

Jack shook her head, “I just can’t believe the Council would try to kill him, after all he’s done for those bastards…”

She realized what she’d said, blushing slightly, “sorry Liara…”

T’Soni shook her head, “no, my father has had to be a bastard all her life…I think she’d take it as a compliment.”

Jack laughed, “I hate to say it, but she sounds like my kind of gal.”

“Yes,” mused Liara, “I think I’d have to agree…which is probably why I get along with you…”

Tears came unbidden to her eyes, T’Soni wiped at them, almost surprised at the reaction.

“Are you okay?” asked Jack, concerned.

“Yes…I…I can’t lose him again…not like that,” Liara shuddered, “if I see…”

“You won’t,” countered Jack, “we won’t let it happen…and if it does...”

“We blaze a fire from here to Eternity,” swore Liara, “a funeral pyre spanning the galaxy in remembrance.”

“Sounds good to me…”


	14. A Tender Moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 14

Jack turned her monitor off, idly tinkering with some biotic amps, while she considered what she had just seen.  She still couldn’t believe that the Council would even consider betraying Shepard…and they LIKED him.  Jack decided that politics were more frightening than combat could ever be…

It was probably just as well she was keeping herself occupied, because it allowed her to hide her concern, when Shepard sauntered down the stairs to join her.

“Still toiling away in this hidey hole of yours?”

“What can I say?” quipped Jack, “I enjoy watching you shake that ass down the stairs when you come visit.”

“Well, you’d better be sleeping in the loft tonight, my quarter’s have a proper bed, you aren’t some damn hermit, you know…”

Jack gave him a wry grin, her look practically screaming at him the other things they’d be doing in his quarters, “uh huh…”

Shepard laughed, taking a seat on the cot beside her workbench, “so…what’s your take on the mission?”

“Honestly?” sniffed Jack, “more bullshit…you deserve some damn rest.”

“I can’t leave things as they are,” laughed Shepard.

“I know,” countered Jack, “there’s always got to be something right?  We can’t have the famous Shepard dying of boredom.”

He leaned back against the bulkheads, looking up at nothing, “I don’t know, boredom is starting to sound good…”

“About damn time,” sighed Jack in relief, “let someone else clean up the mess for a change.”

“But after this,” offered Shepard, “I have to see the end of this mess that I got into…has it been five years since it started?  Damn…”

“Huh, alright Shepard,” conceded Jack, “but only because I fucking love seeing you in that tight uniform of yours…anyone else would get it wrong, eh?”

The words brought to mind his last moments with a good friend…

The world was burning around them, shards of metal and cabling crashing around them.  The fate of an entire planet was hanging in the balance…Tuchanka, the krogan homeworld…

He considered the salarian before him.  Shepard hadn’t known him for very long, but he’d come to consider the scientist a comrade.  But now, all Shepard could see was another friend…going off to die.

‘Mordin…I’m sorry…’

‘I’m not…had to be me…someone else might have gotten it wrong…’

The doors to the elevator before him closed, like a death knell…and like that, Shepard had sent another of his friends to die…another tribute to the War…

A voice shook him from his silent reverie.

“Hey, Shepard…wake up!”

He blinked, “huh…what?”

Jack frowned in concern, “are you alright?”

Shepard nodded, leaning forward to get up, “sure, fine…never better.”

The woman rose from her seat, gently pushing Shepard back down, as she sidled up beside him on the cot.

“No, you’re not,” she argued, “you forget that I’ve been there.  Hell, you’re the one who pulled me out of the shit…talk to me…”

She placed her hand on his thigh, squeezing it.

“I know, you aren’t so good with this soft stuff…right?”

Jack laughed, “thanks to a certain hard ass, I’m getting better…”

Shepard sighed, “I’ve just been thinking lately…we’ve lost a lot of good people.”

“You feel responsible?”

“Every commander does,” answered the SPECTRE, “but it’s more than that…like a whisper in the back of my mind…telling me that my work isn’t done…”

Jack’s breath caught slightly, “like bugs, crawling all over your thoughts?”

Shepard remembered a previous conversation with her.  It had been prior to their mission on Paragia, the hell that had been her home for years.

“Something like that…”

Jack nodded, gesturing Shepard to continue.

He shook his head, “I’m just tired Jack…it’s like Anderson once told me …I feel like I’m beating my head against the wall, waiting for something to happen…hoping for once that someone will listen…”

“Only they never do,” said Jack, “not until it’s too late…”

“You can understand my frustration,” Shepard shook his head, “I think I’m going to get some rest before the mission…see you around?”

Jack grabbed his arm, “no you don’t, you aren’t going anywhere!”

Before Shepard could protest, Jack had pulled Shepard down, laying his head in her lap.  He glanced up at her, bemused.

“If I let you go up there,” she declared, “you’ll find some other shit to do…get tired…and have your damn head blown off during the mission because you weren’t thinking straight.”

Shepard started grinning from ear to ear, amused to see such an attentive side to Jack.  The woman blushed in reply; understanding his thoughts without needed to hear them.

“Shut up…get some rest…I don’t want to here another damn word out of you!”

He smirked, closing his eyes as she ran her fingers through his hair, caressing his scalp.  On second thought, he considered, the cot was actually quite comfortable…

“And wipe that shit eating grin off your face,” she barked, her voice seeming distant…

Shepard’s mind went blank, as he succumbed to his weariness.


	15. Maiden Voyage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 15

Major Garrus Vakerian stood in the bridge of the Dover, glancing at the readout before him.  In many ways, the ship reminded him of the Normandy.  He shook his head, time for reminiscing would come later.

“Tali, if you please?” he gestured.

On the deck, a step below Garrus’ vantage, Tali manipulated the holovid display, changing the view to one of the Orthos information base.

Miranda nodded, pointing to a room off-center to the map, “data is stored in the server rooms, in the middle of the base.  Near as we can tell, Kasumi managed to download the data before securing herself in one of the panic rooms.”

“You created a panic room in the middle of a data mining facility?” asked Tali.

Miranda shrugged, “more like strategic defense points.  Weapons, supplies, and a fully secure shelter.”

Tali gestured to the base, noting the other ships docked to its sides, “seems to be vorcha raiders, but the ships are powered down, no signs of life on board.”

Garrus nodded, “who do we have combat ready?”

Zaeed Messani, grizzled, scarred, and unflappable, answered.

“Most of the crew is still shaking down the ship,” he rasped, “and they are on ship detail.  The only combat crew that I’d vouch for are us here, and your fellow turian down in the weapons bay.”

Garrus nodded, “it’s likely to be close quarters in there, so a big team isn’t practical.”

“Plus we need people to secure the ship, cover our backsides,” continued Zaeed.

Garrus nodded, “Miranda, Tali, you two are the brains here.  We need you hacking the systems and making sure everything runs like clockwork.”

Tali stirred, clearly having misgivings about being left behind, but said nothing.  She didn’t want to undermine Garrus on his first mission on this ship.

The turian nodded to Tali, silently thanking her, “none of this matters if we can’t get that info decrypted; and we need steady minds to walk us through the op.”

Miranda nodded, “then that leaves our specialist from Palaven to round out the team, looks like she’s just arrived.”

Garrus heard the bulkhead doors cycle, and turned to meet the new arrival, his eyes widened and recognition dawned on him.

“Major Garrus Vakerian,” announced Miranda, “allow me to introduce Officer-”

“Elana Pytar? You’re the weapons officer from Palaven?”

The turian female before him was decked out in full combat armor, dark red and dull chrome, the same colors as the last command Garrus had served with on Palaven.

“General Corinthus sends his regards, Major,” she saluted crisply.

“You two know each other,” observed Miranda, “good, this will make the mission easier.”

“I would take this opportunity to say that the commander should really stay aboard the ship,” offered Pytar.

Garrus grinned, “you should know me better than that Elana.  And the rest of us are used to working with Shepard.  We never ascribed to the concept of armchair warfare.”

“The best of us never do,” the turian woman nodded, “glad to be on the team sir.”

The Major turned to his second-in-command, “Ms. Lawson?  I’d like you and Admiral Zorah to work on getting us intel, I want to know what we are facing.”

“On it,” replied Miranda, nodding to Tali, as she made her way over to a computer terminal along the side of the bridge.

“Alright people!” barked Zaeed to the rest of the crew, “we’ve got work to do!  Security teams, check all pressure seals and prepare to back up the away team.  It’s your job to make sure I have an exit!”

Garrus nodded, combat readiness snapping into place from years of training and experience.

He crossed by Tali on his way to the airlock, “you be careful,”

She shook her head, “you’ll need it more.  I wish I were going.”

“You’re better at the tech stuff, I’d rather you cover my back with your omnitool on this one.  I promise you can work out your shotgun on the next op.”

The quarian playfully punched his shoulder, “sweet talker…”


	16. Tools for the Job

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 16

Garrus waited in a doorway with his team, as the airlock cycled them through into the base.  He checked his Phaeston assault rifle once more.

“You’re still using the Mantis?” asked Elana, gesturing to the sniper rifle on Garrus’ back.

He laughed, “still trying to switch me over to the Viper, aren’t you?”

She sniffed in reply, “some of us need more than one shot, from time to time.”

“Ask my friend here,” offered the Major, “you can’t beat a classic.”

Zaeed nodded, “I still miss my shitty old rifle…”

“Alright people,” issued Miranda’s voice over the comms, “we’ve got sparse lifeform readings throughout the base, which is a problem.”

“Any reason, besides the obvious?” asked Elana.

“Well, last I checked, vorcha still need to breathe,” came Miranda’s response.

“And?” prompted Garrus.

“The lifescans are coming from the areas of the base with zero containment.”

Elana shook her head, casting a questioning glance at Garrus.

He cursed, immediately following the ramifications.

“So, unless they are walking around in full vacuum suits, we could be dealing with husks.”

“Sounds right,” answered Tali, “Keelah…vorcha husks?”

Garrus shook his head, “heads up people, if we are facing husks, this mission just got more complicated.”

The bulkheads finished cycling air, and Zaeed took point, gesturing the ‘all clear’ to Pytar.

Elana followed Garrus out the airlock, as two Orthos soldiers secured the entrance.

“Good luck sir,” said one of the operatives.  
Garrus lead the team through the empty corridors, reporting his progress to Tali as he went, “scarring along the walls, slashes and burn marks.”

The bulkheads were pitch black, seeming to swallow the lights that issued from the team’s visors.

“Some of these sections are still burning,” announced Zaeed, “watch your step.”

Garrus grunted, grateful that his helmet was on, filtering out the smells of roasting flesh, “heads up people, I’m checking the corpses.”

An armored human in the black and blue colors of Orthos was stuck to the wall, a length of pipe transfixing him like a bug on a pin.  Garrus shook his head, looking down to the dead vorcha on the ground.

“Damn,” said Garrus, “his back is to the operative.”

Elana Pytar shook her head, “you mean, they were fighting together against whatever it was that killed them?”

“I see no knife in his back,” agreed Massani, “no rifle burns either.”

“And no sign of what did the killing,” continued Vakerian, “on your toes people…we’re almost up to the holding room.”

The hallway led to a much larger chamber, a circular room with ventilation shafts on the ceiling.  Several terminals had doubled as chest-high barricades for the mutilated figures strewn about the area.

“You take me to the nicest places,” quipped Pytar.

“I haven’t even started yet,” replied Garrus, “just ask Tali sometime.”

Zaeed jaunted up to the blast door.  The computer terminal had been blasted out, leaving him no way to communicate with whomever might have been inside.

“Any ideas?” asked Elana.

Zaeed grinned, turning to the door, and knocking the first five bars of “Shave and a Haircut” against the metal with the butte of his rifle.  It was an old Earth joke that had persisted since time immemorial.

The turians glanced at Zaeed with uncertainty, as the method was still a primarily human affectation, one that didn’t translate well across cultures.

“Damn it girl,” the former mercenary shook his head, straining his ear against the metal for any sound, “come on.”

After what seemed an eternity, he heard timed thumping against the bulkhead, the last two bars of the song.

Zaeed grunted, satisfied, “it’s her.”

Garrus nodded, moving to the broken terminal.  He drew a small device from his belt pouch.  Pulling out several wires, Vakerian clamped diodes leading from the device into the open conduit.

“Is that you Kasumi,” he asked, “are you okay?”

“GARRUS?” came the woman’s voice in reply, “what are you doing here?”

The turian laughed, “I was in the neighborhood, thought I’d stop by and help out.  Tali, do you have remote access to the systems?”

“Still establishing connections,” answered the Quarian, “I’ll need a few minutes.”

“God, but it’s good to hear your voices,” said Kasumi.

“We’ll be sure to catch up,” mused Tali, “but first…oh dear…”

Before Garrus could ask, he heard a screeching cry echo through the hallways.

“…the Hell was that?!” demanded Zaeed.

“Adjutants…” gasped Kasumi.

Garrus shook his head, “I thought that type of husk died out on Omega.”

“Apparently some escaped,” said Kasumi, over the comms, “because the vorcha rushed in here like rats from a sinking ship, went straight for the weapon stores.”

“Alright people, let’s dig in, we need to buy time for Tali’s hack,” grunted Garrus, “Zaeed, clear out the bodies, strip the weapons.  Elana, run the outskirts, set up mines.”

  The SPECTRE walked the perimeter, noting that the vents coincided with the hallway entrances.  He nodded, at least there were only two points of entry.

“Kasumi,” said Garrus, “refresh my memory on the Adjutants.”

“The bastards are biotics,” she explained, “they use barriers and create minor singularity fields.”  
He nodded.  As the pair of soldiers finished their rounds, they took cover behind two of the terminals.

“Elana, you up on your biotics?”

The turian female grinned defiantly, clenching her fist as she sent a biotic charge through her arm, casting an indigo hue throughout the chamber.

He nodded, turning to Zaeed.

“Like old times,” grunted the human.

“I wish I was out there with you,” said Kasumi over the comms.

Garrus heard more screams.  Then he saw the hulking mammoths that produced them, as they rounded the corner.  It was as if several bodies had been slammed together to create the putrid, pulsating masses, shambling ponderously on two legs.  Their maws were vertical slits, exposed flesh glowing with a blue pallor, matching their soulless eyes.

The SPECTRE shook his head, taking aim, “no Kasumi, you really don’t...”


	17. Remembrance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 17

Shepard was running through the same damn forest again.  No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t escape it.

He noticed a flash of light in the distance, and decided to run towards it.  Anything was better than the death and decay of the woods around him.  The dank odor followed him as he ran, the smell of blood and rot clinging to him like a jealous lover.

Eventually, Shepard reached a clearing.  Before him lay a cracked and scarred landscape.  All around him, soldiers filed past, making a run for the blue beam in the middle.  Shepard got swept up in the charge, rushing to reach the relay, which would beam him to the Citadel, and allow him to end this war…

From the skies, Harbinger howled its rage.  The Reaper lashed out, burning away the charging brigade with unforgiving fire.  Beams peppered the skies, lancing through air support, felling the ships about him.

One of the tanks in front of Shepard took the full brunt of Harbinger’s attack, scattering him and those around him.  He scrambled behind the cover of the upturned vehicle.  He was joined by others, but could only see Liara beside him, her blood flowing from a dozen open wounds.

‘We need immediate evac!’ cried Shepard in desperation.

Before long, the Normandy landed before him, and he carried Liara to its entrance bay.  Shepard handed her to Garrus.

‘Take her.’

‘Don’t…leave me behind,’ pleaded Liara.

Shepard shook his head, he HAD to get her out of here.  It didn’t matter what happened to him, but he would NOT allow the Reapers to claim another he cared for.

‘Whatever happens,’ he swore, ‘you mean everything to me…NOW GO!”

Shepard turned to run back into the fray, not hearing Liara’s final words.

Harbinger’s blare shook the ground, and a fiery blast tore through the skies, crashing into the Normandy.  Shepard screamed in disbelief, as the wreckage came crashing down around him.

Harbinger’s beam now came for him, seeking to claim his life.  He welcomed the release…

Shepard opened his eyes sharply, his eyes darting to and fro, taking stock of his surroundings.  He looked up to see Jack reading a report on a remote holovid.  She noticed his movement, placing the readout to the side.

The SPECTRE sat up, clearing his head of the cobwebs.  He ran a hand through his hair, forcing himself to breath calmly.  He noticed only then that his other hand was gripping Jack’s in a vise.  Throughout the whole episode, she’d remained completely silent.

Shepard slowly got to his feet, nodding to her in thanks, “how long was I out?”

She looked ready to question him, but shook her head, “a few hours, EDI was just about to call us up for the mission briefing.

He nodded, turning to leave, “thanks Jack…”

“For what?”

“For not asking me ‘what’s wrong.’” 

“Oh you’d better tell me eventually,” Jack declared archly, “but I’ve been there.  You’ll tell me when you’re ready, or after I’ve pissed you off enough.”

Shepard chuckled, as Jack’s banter chased away the phantoms of his nightmare, “see you upstairs?”

“Hell yes…”

*****************

In the communications hub of the Normandy, Shepard glanced at the display of the planet Feros before him.  Around the holo were Ashley, Liara, Jack, and EDI.

“Status report,” said Shepard.

“My contacts went silent here a while back,” stated Liara, “it’s how I knew to get in contact with the rachni delegation, and send the information on to the Council.”

“Huh, you never mentioned that,” observed the Captain.

“No time,” apologized Liara, “by the time I knew the whole story, we were on our way to the meeting.”

Shepard nodded, “so what do we know?”

“Not much,” answered Samantha Traynor.

Liara adjusted the readout, zooming the image in to view the colony on Feros.

"Last scan, several of the outposts have been abandoned,” said the asari, “but that was weeks ago, so there's no way to know which sectors are populated."

The readings went silent, displaying an error message on the holo-display.

“Readings are inconclusive,” said Traynor, “whatever is blocking communications with the surface also seems to be interfering with surface scans.  However...”

"There seems to be a low level repeating signal going out," continued EDI, "but it's going to take time to sift through the noise and lock on to its point of origin."

“Then we take a Kodiac shuttle to the nearest clear sector, go in slowly in case there are hostiles in the area,” replied Shepard.

“I will try to figure out a way to punch through the communications lockdown,” said Liara.

Shepard nodded, “good.  You, EDI, and Traynor crack that signal, and figure out a way to get me communications.  Ashley and Jack, suit up, we are going planet-side.  Once we meet up with the colony, I'll send a shuttle back up.”

A look passed between the three female soldiers.  Shepard glanced from one to the other, unsure of what to make of it.  He assumed it was jitters.

“I know we are running light on combat crew,” said Shepard, “but this is the same old routine.  EDI, Liara, take care of the ship, stay in low orbit just in case we need backup.”

Jack and Ashley drew back sharply, as if they had been slapped.  Liara nodded guardedly, “it’ll be alright Shepard, be safe out there.”

He shrugged, “always am…”


	18. Feros Rising

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 18

On approach along the surface of Feros...

Shepard checked his gear once more, securing a pistol and an assault rifle to the magnetic catches on his armor, making sure to pack extra thermal clips as well.

He patted Jack on the shoulder.  She nodded, as the biotic checked over her pistol and shotgun.  Shepard made his way to the cockpit of the shuttle, standing behind Ashley, who was piloting the vessel.

“You doing alright Ash?” he asked.

“Sure skipper,” she replied, “why?”

“I’ve caught the sidelong glances you two have been giving each other,” he whispered, “anything I should know about?”

“I ah…,” Ashley faltered for a moment, unsure what to say, “we’re still getting to know each other I guess.  I never really worked with your so-called 'Suicide Squad.'”

“Jack’s the only person who hated Cerberus worse than you,” Shepard scoffed, “I figured you’d be peas in a pod.”

Ashley flinched slightly, hiding the movement with a shrug, “we’re all adults here Captain, we’ll get it done.”

From behind them, Jack was checking the readout on her terminal, “looks like we are coming up on a landing dock, just outside the blackout zone.”

Williams eased the Kodiac shuttle into the dock, “readouts seem normal, but nobody’s home.”

Shepard nodded, securing his gear before following Jack out the airlock.  Ashley brought up the rear, and together, the team began securing the landing bay.

This was the first time in nearly five years that Shepard had been on Feros.  Concrete and gravel dominated the bay’s construction.  The team made their way up the stairs, exiting out into a deserted commons.

“Reminds me of Noveria,” commented Shepard, “except shuttle trams are down, where are all the people?”

The place looked like a derelict train station.  The few monitors, that weren’t cracked, displayed only static.  The glass ceiling above them let in sunlight, a rusty red hue coloring the exit bay.

Jack gestured to the walls with her shotgun, “look at the scarring here, dried blood and burn marks too.”

Ashley shook her head, “and all of it black.  Whatever happened here, it was weeks ago.”

“I can’t believe nobody knew about this,” Shepard shook his head, “good catch... Shadow Broker.”

No reply came over the intercoms.

“Liara, do you read?”

Still no answer.  Shepard cursed, gesturing to the parking lot outside.

“Let’s find a ride and make our way to the colony.”

Jack twitched, rubbing her neck, “you feel that?”

Shepard came to a stop, focusing on all his senses.  Now that he thought about it, he could sense a dull vibration in the air, causing the hair on his neck to stand on end.

“I don’t feel anything,” offered Ashley.

It was a sensation just beyond Shepard’s ability to put into words, but he also heard a faint thrumming, as if his ears were ringing.

Jack noticed Shepard’s look and nodded, tapping her earlobes.

“We came across a derelict Reaper, a while back,” explained Shepard.

“Could be nothing,” acknowledged Jack, “but the last time I felt like this, we were fighting Collectors.”

Ashley shook her head, making her way to one of the ground vehicles.

“Well, I figure it isn't them,” she asserted.

“Yeah,” laughed Jack, “the Captain here sent them all to hell.”

“Let’s keep on our toes anyway,” he replied, “Ashley, remember how to drive one of these?”

Williams took a look at the vehicle before her, a hovercraft with stabilizers on either wing, and a giant canon on top.

She laughed, “a Hammerhead?  I think I preferred the Mako...”

The trio piled into the vehicle, which cranked to life after a little coaxing.  The craft remained steady, as it hovered along the arid grasslands.  As they continued, the ringing in Shepard's ears got louder.  He shook his head, noticing that Jack was rubbing her temples.  She was wincing slightly, as if ignoring a headache.

Before long, the Hammerhead cleared the grasslands, coming upon barren earth.  Rusted metal jutted out from the landscape, like the bones of a long dead thresher maw.

Jack glanced at her readouts, cursing at the static that greeted her.

"Hey," said Ashley, "there's a ship up ahead..."

Shepard opened the hatch, getting into the canon mount for a better look.

Sure enough, there was a crashed space vessel not far ahead.  A giant trench had been dug into the dark terrain, a direct result of crash velocity.

"I don't see any movement," he commented, "bring it around, let's check for survivors."

"Or at least what happened," suggested Ashley.

Shepard nodded, dropping down from the canon mount, securing his weapons as he exited out the back of the vehicle.  Jack and Ashley followed him out, securing the perimeter.

The approach to the blast-doors felt like walking through a graveyard.  The ground was dark and ashen, with spurs of metal strewn about everywhere.  The wind had died down, leaving them baking in the sunlight.  Shepard got to the entrance of the derelict, opening the console.

Ashley quickly brought up her omnitool, accessing the panel, "the ship's V.I. seems to be corrupt.  From what I can gather, they lost containment after some attack, which forced them to crash land here."

Shepard arched an eyebrow, "I didn't know you had tech skills."

Williams smirked, "Garrus swore it couldn't hurt, so Tali got me a Nexus last shore leave.  It's come in handy."

The Captain nodded, "yeah, she does swear by them, though I prefer Logic Arrest.  It's slower for hacks, but Liara prefers their shield tech."

Before long, the doors creaked, pressurized air hissing out of the entrance.  Ashley nodded to Shepard, backing away from the airlock.

"The crash must have damaged the lock," he grunted, "Jack, lend a hand?"

The woman nodded, as she waited for Shepard to encompass the barrier in a biotic warp field.  She sent a small shockwave to follow, the resulting detonation blowing the doors wide open.

Jack snapped her right hand up to her temple, massaging it as if in pain.  She stifled a cough with her other hand, blinking past bloodshot eyes.

Shepard shook his head, eyes furrowed with concern, "Jack, are you alright?"

She waved him off, taking out her vacuum rebreather, fixing it over her face, "must be something in the air, I'll be alright."

The SPECTRE began to protest, but Jack refused to back down, assuring him it was nothing, and that more important matters were at hand.  Shepard didn't like it, but he couldn't do anything about it, they had to move on.

As they traversed the hallways, Shepard noted that the ship seemed abandoned and in disarray.  Gouges were torn out of the bulkhead, as if by giant claws; and blaster marks littered the walls.

"Any signs of life in the ship's log?" asked Shepard.

Ashley consulted her omnitool, "no, but if any datalogs or crew survived, they'd be in the best fortified areas of the ship."

Shepard nodded, on this class of ship, that would be the armory, lockup, or the bridge.  Considering that much of the ship had broken up during landfall, that only left the armory.  The trio trekked to the front of the ship in silence, the two SPECTRES glancing at each other.

Despite her arguments, Jack's breathing was erratic and labored.  She seemed to be aware; but if this continued, Shepard wouldn't be able to keep her on the mission.  He too was feeling...off.  It was as if he'd just recovered from a high fever.  His throat felt raw, his muscles were aching slightly; but he could still keep his movements sharp.

Before long, the squad had reached the armory.  The door had clearly been barricaded, its front panel blown out, its frame warped, as if welded from the inside.

Shepard nodded, "jackpot.  Someone was here alright.  Ashley, you have a torch on that omnitool?"

Williams nodded, as the two SPECTRES took up either side of the door, beams of bright heat carving through the welded joints of the door.  Shepard banged the side of the door with his rifle, in case anyone inside was still alive.

As Shepard gestured, Jack nodded again, wiping sweat from her brow, punching the weakened gateway with a biotic push.  The door flew off its hinges with a groan and a snap, smoke billowing forth from inside the room.

The trio quickly trekked into the breach.  Shepard scanned the middle, as Jack and Ashey swept the corners.  Everything in the room was covered in a thin layer of frost, despite the warmer temperatures outside.

“Huh,” said Ashley, as she came upon a series of large, body-sized, capsules, “looks like the surviving crew went into hibernation.”

“Any of them still alive?” asked Shepard, as he finished his sweep, gesturing for Jack to guard the exit.

“Just two,” replied the female SPECTRE, “starting up the wake cycle now.”

The Captain shook his head, taking in the information from his surroundings. 

“Whatever attacked the ship,” he said, “the surviving crew had holed up in here,  
going into cryo sleep until rescue.”

Ashley nodded, “likely, a few took shifts, surviving on the remaining rations.  They welded the doors, and something attacked from the ductwork, taking out some of the pods before they secured the room.”

Shepard sighed, “such waste…”

“Skipper,” gasped Ashley.

“What is it Ash, you find out who they are yet?”

She nodded, “batarians…”

Shepard said nothing, though he noticed Jack shuffle uncomfortably.  He understood the sentiment.  Most batarian ships this far from the Hegemony were likely to be slavers.  Both Shepard and Jack had a history with batarian slavers…

The Captain’s lip curled distastefully, before settling into calm stoicism once again, “we don’t know what they wanted here.  Get them vertical, then we can see what they were doing.”

“I can guess,” Jack grunted, “and if I’m right, I’ll make them wish they’d died in the crash.”

Shepard nodded coldly, “if you’re right, I’ll help you, but first-”

Without warning, the stasis pod alarms began to ring.  Shepard saw smoke billowing from the top of the pods.  On instinct, he pulled Ashley away from the terminal, yelling at everyone to get down.

An electrical explosion shook the room, as one of the stasis pods ruptured.  Shepard brought up his arms, combining his biotic and tech amps to form a crude shield.  His plan worked, absorbing the heat and stopping the flying shrapnel.  The force of the impact caused him to momentarily black out, as Shepard was flung against the far wall.

Jack came to his side, her eyes full of concern.  Shepard waved her off.

“Get the last pod open now!  Before it blows too!”

Jack cursed, running up to the last remaining stasis chamber.  Her arms lit up with blue biotic energy, as she pried open the locking mechanisms with her bare hands.  The woman shook her head, knowing she’d never make it in time.

“The hell with this,” she spat, pooling a dense ball of biotic fury in her fist, before ramming it through the shatterproof casing of the pod.

Jack didn’t stop, dragging the batarian out of the blast radius.  She dropped him behind the safety of a terminal, before collapsing against the opposite wall. The fall clearly jarred the batarian awake.  He began to vomit on the floor, trying to remember how to breathe.

Jack ignored the headache racing through her skull, bringing her shotgun to bear on the batarian, as the alien’s four eyes finally focused.  The two remained silent, glaring at each other, neither one sure which was stunned more.

A polite cough broke through the tension, drawing the notice of the prone batarian.

“Sorry for the rude awakening,” Shepard nodded at the alien, gesturing to Jack, “my associate and I were simply wondering your trade.”

The red-skinned batarian laughed, “you are asking if I am a slaver?  Don’t lump me in with that lot.”

“Bullshit,” growled Jack, “slavery is ‘part of your caste system,’ every batarian defends it like a damn birthright.”

The alien groaned, as he leaned against the terminal at his back, rubbing his neck, “that’s because you’ve only met terrorists and cast-offs.”

He glanced at Shepard, keying in on him as the leader, “slavery is indeed a part of our culture, as indentured servitude is a practice among the asari of Illium.”

“So what,” demanded Shepard, “the slavers and raiders we fight are heretics?”

The alien sniffed, “something like that.”

Ashley calmly walked up to the conversation, “the rest of you never seemed to care.”

“That’s because the rest of us had no choice!” spat the batarian, “what would you do to fight a losing war?!  We lost planets to the council races, and none would lift a finger to help us.”

Shepard raised a hand, as Jack began to protest, “so a few war-hawks get some assets, give you an edge to even the playing field.  Why should I believe you?  Your people destroyed my home!”

The batarian chuckled grimly, “the Reaper War changed everything.  We destroyed your home, some backwater colony?  At least Earth still exists.  Karshaan is a desert, a broken husk.  Kill me or leave me human.  It’s not as if any will lift a finger to help the batarians…”

Shepard remained silent, glaring pensively at the alien beneath him.

Jack couldn’t know the thoughts going through his mind.  She’d had a few run-ins with batarians before, probably as many as Shepard.  But she’d had Cerberus to sharpen her claws against.  Her revenge had been granted, and easy by comparison.

But for Shepard...batarians had warped his life.  Slavers had destroyed his childhood.  Battles with raiders had defined some of the most traumatic moments of his military career.  How could he revenge himself against an entire species?  Should he?  How could he, and not become a monster?

She could almost feel Shepard churning those questions in his mind.  After what seemed an eternity, the SPECTRE finally nodded.

“Perhaps,” breathed Shepard, “you can start by asking…”

He walked up to the batarian, offering his hand, “Captain Crichton Shepard.”

The red-skinned alien blinked several times, instantly recognizing the name.

He took the human’s hand, rising to his feet, “I am Terric, Clan Verrad, commander of this vessel.  Did any of my crew…?”

“You’re the last,” Shepard shook his head, “what happened here?”

Something like a far off explosion assaulted their ears, a white noise crashing against their senses.  The hull shook, the force driving them to their knees.  Ashley came to her senses first, followed by Shepard, who gripped his head, as if fighting a headache.  He slapped himself, coming to his senses shortly.

Terric and Jack were still on the floor.  The batarian rolled over to his back, leaning against the Terminal.  He groaned, his arms going limp, as if numb from a seizure.  Jack still writhed on the floor, blood flowing from her nose, as she foamed at the mouth.

“Jack!” screamed Shepard, pulling off her rebreather, as he wiped away the spittle.  He tore the leather strap off his rifle, placing the bit between her teeth, so Jack wouldn’t bite her own tongue.

Shepard snatched a muscle relaxant and a nerve stim from his belt pouch, plunging one into her neck, and the other into her chest.  Ashley watched on in concern.  As Jack’s shudders subsided, Asley let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

Jack started to groan, her eyes rolling back from the rear of her eye-sockets.  Shepard’s hand held hers, his other cradling her head.  She smiled weakly up at him, nodding slightly.

“What the hell was that?” demanded Ashley.

Terric cursed, leaning against the terminal, as he slowly rose to his feet, “Reapers…”


	19. Ghosts in the Watchtower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 19

Reaper husks...the station was filled with Remnant...

“Sometimes, I hate being right,” muttered Garrus, as a biotic blast flew over his cover, crashing against the wall behind him.

Garrus looked to his fellow soldiers on either side, nodding to each of them in turn.  Zaeed grunted, pulling a grenade from his ammo belt.  
He grimaced darkly, screaming "choke on this you bastards!"  
The human thrust the grenade over cover, into the approaching horde.  Bright lights and flames cocooned in every direction, drawing unholy shrieks from their enemies.  
Garrus glanced at Elana, and she leapt up, casting a biotic warp into the midst of the monstrosities.  Garrus rose to his feet, gesturing with his hand.  Bolts of electricty leapt from the tech amps in his arm, igniting the field surrounding the Adjutants.  The resulting explosion stripped the barriers from the creatures.  Garrus took aim with his rifle.  
"Give 'em hell!" he ordered, firing the Pheaston into the pale, pulsating masses.  The others followed suit, their rounds tearing through blistered flesh.  
"How much longer?" demanded Garrus over the comms, his voice harsh.  
"Almost there," replied Miranda, "Tali and I need a few more minutes."  
"We'll be corpse-food in a few seconds, if this keeps up," spat Zaeed, "can't we blow the damn doors?!"  
Elana shook her head, "look at those bulkheads; the firepower needed to bust those bunkers would turn us to paste."

As the horde drew closer, Garrus shook his head, "the Hell with this..."

Drawing out an entire belt of biotic cluster grenades, he pulled the cord attached to every pin on the belt, before throwing it into the mass.  Elana Pytar's eyes widened, her curse stifled in her haste to hit the deck.

Zaeed laughed like a madman, taking cover as well, "you crazy sonuvabitch!"

 

The entire room shook as if two Thresher Maws had decided to mate inside the base.  The reverberations were so violent, Garrus was sure his insides would be mush before long.

The reflection of blue cascaded off the walls, creating a breathtaking lightshow that almost blinded the turian.  The element zero in his grenades must have reacted to the Adjutants' barriers, causing multiple detonations.  He almost wished he could have seen it.

Garrus eventually noticed the shaking had subsided.  He opened his eyes, only just realizing he had seen the lightshow through his eyelids.  Spirits protect him, he'd SEEN the explosion through CLOSED eyes...

The Major shuddered, 'on second thought...'

"Is anyone still alive?" squeaked a muffled, feminine voice.

Elana Pytar coughed, as a pair of hands helped her to her feet, "despite Major Vakerian's...unique solution."

Zaeed was still on the floor laughing.

Garrus rose to his feet, assisting in picking up his fellow turian.  He turned to see Kasumi, the woman they had come to rescue.

The former thief was decked out in her familiar gray and black sneaking suit, a hood drawn over her head, casting shadows on her face.  Garrus grinned, clapping the petite woman on the back.

"When did you get out of there?"

Kasumi looked pointedly at her old friend, "Tali hacked the door a minute ago, I figured I'd wait until you'd finished destroying the damn place.  You call this a rescue mission?”

Pytar sniffed, “you should see a turian demolitions op.”

“No thank you,” Kasumi sighed, “burn scars are bad for the complexion.”

“I never noticed,” quipped Garrus.

It took a moment for Kasumi Goto to process all that had happened over the last moments.  She couldn’t help but laugh.  The absurdity of it all was enough to make her almost giddy.

“Heads up, I set the base to emit an EMP burst,” came Miranda’s voice over the radio, “this facility is a wash for now, and we don’t want any data to get into the wrong hands.”

“Good work, you crazy boshtet,” issued Tali’s voice, “now get back on board, and don’t scare me like that again…”

Before Garrus could comment further, a roar reverberated off the walls, a primal sound which shook him to his bones.

“What the Hell was that?” demanded Zaeed, sobering immediately and rising to his feet.

The SPECTRE had been fighting alongside Shepard for years, had seen all kinds of oddities, horrific, enchanting, sometimes even both at once.  In all his years fighting the Reapers, the turian couldn’t recall anything that had sounded quite that…angry…

“Alright, party time’s over,” Garrus shook his head, “back to the airlock, on the double people!”

Zaeed drew a shotgun from his pack, handing the weapon to Kasumi, “you know what that was?”

Kasumi shook her head, “let’s hope we don’t find out…”


	20. Alliance of Necessity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 20

 

The run to the Mako was a mad dash.  Shepard and the batarian, Terric, rushed through the scarred desert.  Terric's crashed ship had landed in pieces, wreckage strewn about the wastelands that marked its entry crater.  They were currently on their way to what was left of the hanger, nearly a hundred yards away...

The run out of the wreckage had been strewn with Husks.  Ashley hadn't wanted to let him go, nor had Jack, but Shepard hadn't had much of a choice.

'You can't be serious,' Ashley had protested, 'are you really going to trust a batarian you just met?!'

Shepard had silenced her concerns with little more than a pointed glance.  If anybody had history with the batarians, it was Shepard; and few could hope to gainsay him on that matter.

'I'll be careful, we don't have much choice.  You take Jack back to Normandy in the Hammerhead.'

Jack had growled her defiance, 'the fuck she will Shepard.  I'll be fine-'

'You almost bit off your own tongue,' countered Shepard, 'whatever these spasms are.'

'I told you,' supplied Terric, 'the Reapers have something...affects biotics the worst...'

He hadn't needed to hear much more.  Shepard didn't need Jack getting exposed, at least until they figured out some way to dampen the effects.  So Ashley had left with Jack, leaving Shepard to clear his way to salvation, with someone he barely trusted guarding his back...

Shepard cursed, firing to either side, as Human and batarian husks closed in on the duo.  He should have had Ashley stay and provide covering fire.  Crichton’s biotics were still there, but his arms felt numb, as if his biotic amps were running at half capacity.

Terric, to his credit, was wielding Ashley's backup Avenger quite well, blasting their assailants with controlled shots from the assault rifle.  When the batarian ran out of thermal clips, and had to reload, Shepard lashed out with his biotics, sending out waves of blue energy to shatter the corpses rushing at them.

As he finished reloading, Terric covered Shepard's reload.  The batarian spewed fire from his omnitool, scouring the field around them.  The Remnant fell back against the heat of those flames, but Terric sent forth bolts of electricity as well, paralyzing the targets, which Shepard then turned to pulp with his reloaded assault rifle.

This couldn't last forever.  As Shepard neared the fallen hanger of the ship, he could see a couple of vehicles littered about.  A few of the Makos still looked serviceable.  There was only one problem…

Terric drew up short behind the SPECTRE, and cursed as he saw the scene.  There were dozens of Cannibals between them and their goal.  Shepard shook his head, his weapon running low on thermal clips.  The numbness had faded, now growing into a headache from the strain of constant biotics.

Shepard grasped the last of his grenades, chucking it into the center of the approaching mass of Remnant husks.  What followed was a blinding explosion, so fierce that both he and Terric had to shield their eyes.  The intense heat battered against their shields.  Shepard could feel the heat of the strike nearly blister his skin.

As the smoke cleared, Shepard saw a clear path to the Mako.  He glanced up, as he heard the deep hum of the mass effect fields above.  Hovering above them, Ashley held the Hammerhead steady, strafing the field, clearing the approach of straggling husks.

Shepard and Terric wasted no time, rushing for the tank, firing at any writhing corpses as they made their way.  Shepard shook his head, saluting to the shuttle as he reached the hatch of the nearest Mako.

*****************

Ashley sighed, pulling the Hammerhead up into high orbit.  She set the autopilot for their approach vector to the Normandy.

"I can't believe we're leaving them behind down there."

Jack groaned, as she sat up in her cot, "he should have fucking left me.  I could have booked it back to the shuttle by myself."

"That's not his style," replied Ashley sadly, "not since Virmire..."

Jack remained silent for a moment, taking a deep breathe, "so why'd you go for his fucking balls on Horizon?  Should have just ripped out his throat and left it alone..."

Ashley snapped her head to glare at Jack, "that wasn't how it happened.  I don't need to explain myself to you.  Cerberus-"

"Don't," spat Jack, through clenched teeth, "tell me...about Cerberus.  I spent my entire life fighting and being tortured by those bastards."

"Then why did YOU join Shepard?"

Jack shrugged, "gave me a chance to get even..."

Ashley sniffed a dismissal, before turning away, "so you were using him.  I joined him because I believed in him."

"Yeah," quipped the biotic, "you were a real help when we hit the Collectors.  Oh, and when you pointed a gun at him.  AND that must be why you still see him as a damn Reaper husk!"

Ashley charged up her omnitool, brandishing her arm at the other woman, "shut the hell up, I wasn’t the damn liability this mission..."

Jack arched an eyebrow, before leaning back and rolling her eyes, as if bored.  Ashley shook her head, lowering her arm and deactivating the Overload.

"Shepard is the Captain because he can think critically,” said Williams, “he doeesn’t look down on any of us..."

She glared at the woman once known as Subject Zero.

"Kitten has claws.  Alright, I can respect that, and I don't have my clippers on me.  But you're only half right."

"Half?" demanded the SPECTRE.

"Listen Williams, I get it,” Jack sighed, “you're some big hardass, you looked up to him, and you've been through the shit together.”

Ashley nodded.

“The last thing he needs is someone looking to shoot him in the back,” continued the biotic, “the way he is now, he'd want you to..."

Williams drew in another breath, before shaking her head, "why?"

Jack closed her eyes, as if banishing unpleasant memories.

"I was like that for a while...didn't know if I was real, if my thoughts were just Cerberus implants, if it was my fault that friends kept betraying me, or dying around me..."

Ashley brought her hand to the side of her face, running it through her hair nervously, "and I opened old wounds...I know..."

"No," said Jack, "fuck the ‘wounds,’ you wouldn't let him move on or forget.  The dumb asshole already blames himself, when he hears this shit about the Council..."

"I won't betray him," swore Ashley.

"You'd better not," warned Jack, "or I'll fucking end you..."

*********************

Shepard checked the readouts in the Mako, the LADAR display was still a garbled mess, but the ping radar verified some basic structures a few klicks ahead.

"Looks like we're approaching Feros’ main colony," said Shepard.

Terric nodded, as he finished donning a suit of red and black armor from the cargo hold.

"Come to think of it," he continued, "how'd you get a hold of a Mako?"

"My clan was first to open trade negotiations after the Reaper War ended," explained Terric, "I was en route to a summit at Omega when my ship went down."

Shepard nodded, "I'm...unused to dealing with batarians who aren't at my throat...it's refreshing."

Terric chuckled sardonically, "I know the feeling.  I didn't expect the 'Butcher of Bahak' to let me live either."

The SPECTRE pondered for a moment, driving onwards in the Mako, “the Reaper War taught me not to be picky about my alliances…”

“Careful, but not picky,” Shepard took in a deep breath, shaking his head, “hard to care about grudges when the universe is on fire…”

Terric understood the sentiment.  It was a mindset he shared with many of his clan.  He stared at the vast expanse surrounding the vehicle, taking in the towering spires of technology jutting out of the ground.  The desert gave way eventually to arid grasslands.

"This planet seems to be recovering nicely from the War," remarked Terric.

Shepard nodded, "one can only hope Karshaan will enjoy the same someday."

The batarian blinked several times, staring at Shepard, and finally realized the human meant every word.  Unfortunately, people like them were still too few.

Terric cleared his throat, "one should also hold the same hope for Earth."

Shepard grunted softly, nodding in appreciation.

"So, I have to ask," continued the batarian, "what really happened to the Bahak relay?"

Flashes of memory assaulted Shepard's mind.  Admiral Hackett asking him to investigate an Alliance scientist's kidnapping, which lead to the eventual discovery of Reaper technology in batarian space.  Then came the fighting through Indoctrinated humans, and the destruction of an entire solar system.  All of it done to delay the Reaper hordes for a few mere months…

As he relayed the story, Shepard shook his head, "so many lives, for a few months, spent doing...what?"

Terric nodded, "nobody likes to admit it now, but no one believed you, none prepared.  Even as Karshaan burned, many thought it was some geth attack."

Shepard turned to Terric, "the geth?"

“The old lies worked best,” Terric shrugged, "we soon learned differently, but how does one comprehend such forces, set on destroying everything?  It was easy to blame you Shepard."

The SPECTRE nodded, recalling his history with the batarians, his childhood colony destroyed, his unit sacrificed at Elysium, leaving him alone to defend helpless innocents, and finally, the terrorist acts at Terra Nova.  He wasn't a poster child for negotiations with the batarians.  But somehow, he'd made peace with the one responsible threatening the human colony.

"How is Balak?" asked Shepard, as if tasting something bitter, "after he pledged your remaining ships, I didn’t care to see him again..."

Terric laughed, "much like you, I believe, the whole affair left him sour, though he never spoke out against you after that."

"Oh?"

The batarian nodded, "some like to believe Bahak’s destruction was your revenge for Elysium and Mindoir.  Many in my clan figured such behavior didn't fit with your nobility in the Reaper War."

Shepard shook his head, "I'm not a hero."

Terric cocked his head to the side, puzzled, "you don't think so?  Many hold you responsible for saving the Galaxy..."

"Tell that to the souls of the dead left in my wake," the Captain sighed, "heroes don't have the body count I do..."

Terric didn't know how to reply, so he spoke his mind, "Bahak shouldn't be forgotten Shepard, but neither should Mindoir, or Elysium."

The SPECTRE sighed again, nodding slightly in appreciation.  There was no more time for doubt, they'd just arrived at the colony gates.

"Looks like they're dug in," said the Captain, "time to get some answers..."


	21. Blind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 21

In the med bay of the Normandy, a human biotic was lying on a cot in a loose-fitting gown.  Liara sat next to her, frowning as she looked at the medical reports with Dr. Karin Chakwas.

The physician ran a hand through her platinum hair, shaking her head, "this just doesn't make any sense."

"I agree," said Liara, "when you came in, several hours ago, most of your biotic activity had shut down."

"You're telling me," whispered Jack, her voice hoarse and weary, "I felt like I'd gone blind, or deaf."

Chakwas furrowed her eyebrows, "how so?"

Jack, seemingly at a loss for words, looked at Liara.

"I've lived my whole life with biotics," explained the asari, "I consider it part of my sensory system now, how I perceive the world, like my sense of touch."

The other doctor nodded, "yes, I can certainly see your point.  I understand the analogy.  But what caused it?  And why wasn't Shepard affected?"

Jack shook her head, "I dunno, but I spazzed pretty hard.  It hit us both like a damn train.  Shepard bounced back, I didn't...it pisses me off, leaving him down there."

Liara squeezed her hand, "well, I'm working on a theory.  We get any info from that signal down on Feros?"

EDI chimed in over the speakers, "it seems to be an older form of basic military communication, known as 'Morse Code.'  The only signal that could get through was a low freq-"

"I'm sorry EDI," apologized Jack, rubbing her temples, "I'm having a tough time concentrating with this headache..."

"It is alright," replied the AI, "it wasn't your fault, we believe the Remnant were somehow emitting a signal that suppressed biotics...a widespread 'Biotic Dampening Field.'"

Jack shook her head, "is that even possible?"

"It's been done in small amounts before," explained Karin, "but the effects never lasted for this long before, and the research was ultimately abandoned."

"I remember dealing with the tech back during our bout with Saren," Liara shrugged, "but this is more aggressive, this is Reaper tech.

"So, anything is possible," groaned Jack.

Liara nodded, "however, I believe that under the right circumstances, one can resist the effect."

Dr. Chakwas continued, "you yourself briefly repressed the symptoms, according to Lt. Commander Williams.  Liara believes she could fare better, having touched the Prothean Codex in Shepard's mind."

"As well as the Thorian Cipher," said EDI, "however, I would advise against testing that theory in battle until we can contact Shepard."

"How do we do that?" asked Jack.

"The carrier signal earlier, the Morse Code," explained Liara, "the colonists are using it to send out a message.  Once Shepard makes contact with them, he can relay a new message to us, and we can reply."

Jack nodded, "then let's hope he gets his ass in gear quick, or I'm dragging mine down there."

Chakwas shook her head reprovingly, "no you're not, Ashley is standing by for the call.  Meanwhile, you need to recover."

Jack looked like she wanted to say something, but Liara placed her finger on Jack's lips, silencing her.

"Doctor, could you give us the room for a moment?"

Chakwas arched an eyebrow, "you're going to try it now?"

Liara shrugged.

Karin sighed, running her hand through her hair again, "fine, but if her vitals spike, I am coming in and administering sedatives."

As Chakwas left, EDI chimed in over the intercom, "I'll get back to work on prepping the signal, good luck..."

*************

Once they were alone, Jack turned to the asari, "alright, what is this?"

Liara fumbled with her hands for a moment, lost in thought.

"Liara?"

She gasped, glancing up at Jack again, avoiding eye contact, "erhm, well, I have a working theory as to how Shepard was able to resist the biotic dampening field."

"The Cipher, yeah," said Jack, "how's that work for us?"

Liara shook her head, "well, I...touched his mind, helped him sort out the memories.  It's what allowed him to make sense of the data in his head."

"And you think you got some of that mojo as well?"

The asari blinked several times, before laughing in reply, "yes...I suppose so."

"Then why so nervous?"

Liara immediately sobered, "Jack...the joining of minds isn't something entered lightly.  I didn't appreciate the ramifications of what we were doing at the time.  It was like a light going off in my head...I guess it's what drew me to Shepard."

Jack laughed, "so it gave you a taste of what he was all about, and you had to have more?"

"Jack," blushed the asari, "it wasn't like that…exactly.  But it did become...clearer, after..."

The woman nodded in reply, "so why are you pussy-footing around me?"

"Goddess, you're incorrigible," Liara sighed, "a meeting of minds can be an extremely personal and intimate experience.  Some asari don't view it as such, but I do. And considering our unique...circumstance, I wasn't sure you’d want to try it..."

It took several moments for Jack to process all that Liara had said.  She didn't blush, but Liara noticed her ears turning red.  They both remained silent for quite a while.  Honestly, they hadn't really addressed the nuance of their relationship.  Both of them had simply been grateful to be alive.

Liara thought they had settled their disputes, calmed all doubts.  She had lost Shepard twice before, never again...

Jack didn't know who she was without Shepard.  She'd been ready to let it go before, cut that part of her soul away...but after so long...she couldn't think of it, this was part of her now.  And then she realized...

"You're afraid..."

Liara remained silent, staring down at the floor, sitting beside Jack.

Jack sighed, grasping Liara's hand, "listen, I don't know what this is, what we are doing, I never questioned it..."

"I still have nightmares sometimes," whispered Liara, "every morning, I wake up, just happy to be alive...just happy he's there..."

Jack nodded, "yeah..."

"I know it seems silly," laughed the asari nervously, "we've lived together for so long with him...but I...guess I got used to this..."

She squeezed Liara's hand, "I know, I was okay just letting it be.  But if you're asking for my trust, Shepard had it long ago, and so do you."

Liara slowly looked up, smiling sheepishly.

"Hey," explained Jack, gently touching Liara's temple, "the way I figure it, I look forward to seeing what's rolling around in there, good luck with MY memories."

Liara couldn't help but laugh, bringing her forehead to touch lightly against Jack, "alright..."

"Let's hope this works," prayed the brunette, "I don't like leaving Shepard down there alone."

"Don't worry Jack," said Liara, squeezing the woman's hand again, "we'll get through this..."

Jack closed her eyes, slightly nervous.  She'd never experienced a mental joining before.  Would it hurt?  She trusted Liara, of course, but despite what she said, such an open sharing of herself was embarrassing.  She felt Liara slip into her consciousness like a drug…

It was a whole new universe of emotion and sensation.  Both her and Liara gasped, their hearts racing in time with each other.  Warmth exuded through Jack's body, pleasant quivers rushing all the way to her toes.  Her apprehension melted away, and all she desired was more... 

*******************

Shepard stood in the center of the colony.  In the distance, great spires rose to the heavens, the sun glimmering off the slivers of giant metal.  The colony itself consisted of large buildings, wide but not tall.  Many of the walls were reinforced glass, which almost gave an appearance of office buildings.

Shepard noticed, however, that many of the blast shields were down.  It reminded him of the world of Aite, where he had put a stop to Cerberus' research into geth-human hybrids.  The memory sent a shiver down his spine, and he focused on the present...as well as the dozen rifles pointed at him and Terric.

"I thought you said you knew these people," muttered the batarian, through a clearly forced smile.

Shepard noticed one of the younger recruits, barely past his teens, wince at Terric.

He chuckled, "I do, try not to show so many teeth, it tends to set humans on edge."

"Quiet you two!" snapped another guard, "someone will be along to verify you are who you say you are..."

Shepard nodded, sighing and trying to look bored.  He kept his hands clear of his weapons, but he also kept his omnitool primed...no sense in being careless.  After what seemed an interminable wait, Shepard saw a familiar face.

He cocked his head to the side, smirking slightly in recognition, "Shiala?"

A lithe, green-skinned asari in a black combat armor raised her arm, "Shepard!"

Another voice issued behind her, a petite brunette in a labcoat and spectacles, "everyone stand down!"

Before he could say anything, Shepard was lightly tackled by the human woman, who gripped him fiercely before letting go, backing away sheepishly.

" Lizbeth Baynham," said the SPECTRE, bemused, "good to see you too..."

Shiala grinned, "you'll have to forgive her, it's nice to see a friendly face, after so long..."

"I also believe," remarked Baynham, pointedly, "the last time we saw him, Shepard was saving our lives..."

"True," admitted Shiala, "it seems we've developed a habit of always incurring your debt."

Shepard waved off her concerns, politely.  It was moments like this that allowed him to bear with the rest.  Besides, he preferred collecting his debts from those who could afford it.

"Who's your friend?" asked Lizbeth warily, "we don't see many friendly batarians around here."

Shepard made his introductions, and wanted to ask more.  However, Shiala felt it wasn't prudent to remain in the open for long.

"Besides," she said, "there's another friend who wants to meet you..."

The group remained silent, as they trekked through the streets.  Shepard noted that the construction wasn't complete, as some of the buildings still held scaffolding, and the walk paths weren't yet paved.  He would have rather liked the effect the grass had against the panels and walls, but too much of it was scorched and scarred.  It seems the colony had been swamped in battle not long ago, and Shepard began to notice bullet holes and cracks scattered about much of the outlying structures.

Once they entered a seemingly random building, Shepard could see what must have been a command center.  Many people seemed to be running about, gathering in front of holographic displays and monitors, shuffling papers about, going silent as the group passed by them.

"Seems you've been through it," said Shepard, as they entered the center of the CIC.

"You have no idea," issued an ethereal, melodic voice.

Terric grew flustered, hearing the echo coming from everywhere and nowhere.

Shepard immediately recognized the vocal cadence, waving down the batarian, "it's alright..."

He turned to Shiala, noticing her eyes had gone black, "is that who I think it is?"

Lizbeth nodded, "we've taken to calling her 'Noveria.'"

"We still wonder at your preoccupation with names," said the rachni Queen, through Shiala's lips, "but we considered this appropriate."

Shepard nodded.  He'd first met, and saved, the rachni Queen in a lab on Noveria.  Considering it was also where she'd been hatched, after millennia extinct, the name was an apt fit.

"I like it," he replied, "didn't think you'd be here, old friend, where are you?"

"Currently leading my children against the sour notes," answered Noveria, "I regret that I cannot…converse more...but it is good to hear your song again..."

Like that, the presence was gone, and Shiala's eyes returned to their normal color, the black fading to while, allowing her green irises to show.

"The rachni are engaged in a stalemate with batarian husks," explained Lizbeth, "in the caves not far from here.  Mom took some of the guards to figure out why."

"As far as we can tell, the Remnant are digging catacombs, trying to get into the city," continued Shiala, "we were getting pushed back, and then the vorcha showed up."

Terric glanced up at this, "slavers?!  Here?!"

"We don't know," replied Baynham, "but they didn't seem to have any others with them."

"From what Noveria told me," offered Shiala, "the vorcha seem to be fighting the Reapers as well, but they panicked when they saw the rachni."

"So we've got a Mexican standoff," stated Shepard.

When he noticed the confusion on the non-Humans' faces, the SPECTRE shrugged, "it's a term for a three way battle."

"Ah," acknowledged Terric, "and what about that Biotic Dampening field?  I've never seen effects this large and widespread."

Shiala and Lizbeth shared a knowing look.  The SPECTRE couldn't help feeling like he'd just dropped a bombshell.

"We'd hoped it was just us," sighed Lizbeth, "but apparently the range carries further than anything we've seen before."

"What the hell is it?" demanded Shepard, "it all but floored one of my best biotics, and nearly did a number on me..."

"Near as we can tell," explained Shiala, "my direct connection with the Thorian has rendered me resistant to it's effect, though I'm not at full potency."

"Perhaps my contact with the Prothean beacon helped as well?" offered Shepard, "it feels like my game is off, but it isn't enough to keep me down."

"Most likely," agreed Shiala, "but that means we can't replicate the process so easily.  I've tried linking minds with little to no avail."

"After a while," explained Lizbeth, "the headaches become too much for them.  As a non-biotic, it's just background noise for me."

"With you here," said Shiala, "we have a fighting chance.  Unfortunately, you and I are the only biotics who can properly use our powers here.  The rest have to fight in shifts."

"Just so," said Lizbeth, "I'm still triangulating the source of the Dampening Field, but we lacked the forces to hit it until now."

"So is this…‘Field’ the source of the signals we received before crash landing?" asked Terric.

Lizbeth remained pensive for a moment, then nodded her head, shuddering as if recalling something unpleasant.

"So that was YOUR ship that crashed," sighed Shiala, "no, it seems the Dampening Field can’t break the atmosphere.  The signal you must have heard is the low-frequency radio waves we've been using to transmit the alert message."

Something clicked in Shepard's mind, "hah, Morse Code..."

He laughed.  The system was considered redundant in the modern age, almost like submarine radar from old Earth lore.  And somehow, it had worked, in conditions that had rendered cutting edge technology all but worthless.

Lizbeth smiled, "got it in one.  So, I assume you brought the Normandy, dare I hope?"

Shepard grinned fiercely, "alright, let's call in some damn backup..."


	22. Sniper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 22

The space station had once been a lively information hub, manned by a cadre of talented individuals.  Previously a Cerberus asset, the facility had been repurposed by Orthos, which had risen out of their ashes.  This base was now to be a listening post for Humanity's elite new special forces.

As Garrus led the other three members through the corridors, he couldn't help but think the place was fast becoming a derelict ghost town.

Static issued from his comm-link, as he tried to raise the Dover with his omnitool.  Garrus shook his head, getting odd snippets and words, a jumble that made no sense.  The four said nothing, silently trudging through the macabre panorama, ignoring the blood and viscera that plastered the burnt walls.

Without warning, the bulkheads beside them exploded.  A fury of shrapnel tore through the air, scattering the squad.

Slowly, achingly, Garrus opened his eyes, shaking his head to clear the ringing from his ears.  He glanced around him, taking stock of the rest of the team.

"Everyone still alive?" he croaked.

His team replied in the affirmative, but Garrus didn't hear them, instead transfixed by two glowing orbs, floating in midair before him.  The smoldering red lights were tinged with a golden pallor, the effect seeming quite surreal.  Garrus shook his head again.  The blast, whatever it was, must have shaken him more than he had realized.

But the fireflies dancing in front of his eyes didn't fade away, instead becoming clearer, more defined.  With a start, Garrus realized that the soulless lights before him were, in fact, the intense gaze of two very large, very angry, eyes.

The large behemoth seemed a putrid amalgamation of multiple vorcha.  The hulking Berserker's breath was foul.  It towered above even the lanky turian, claws grating against the chitin of it's own skin.  Pieces of metal were stuck to the beast’s arms and maw, from where it had burst through the wall.

Garrus then noticed the twin slits along the Berserker's wrists.  His eyes widened, as he heard the familiar whine of pressurized air being released from the omnitools encased in the beast's arms.

The turian leapt despite his aching limbs, steering just clear as the Berserker inundated the space he had just left in a deluge of fire.

Zaeed spat a curse, mimicking what Garrus had done previously, tossing an entire belt of incendiary explosives at the monstrosity.

"Oh...not again," wheezed Kasumi, as she half-carried Pytar, leaping from the resulting inferno.

The explosion shook the deck, blinding Garrus again.  He could feel blood trickling down his face.  Dark blue fluid also trickled from his ear-slits, the vacuum left in the wake of the blasts taking its toll on his system.

Zaeed shook his fist in the air, relishing in the screams of the Berserker.  But his gratification was short lived...

The blood shot-eyes of the corrupted vorcha glared openly at the former mercenary, as the hulk shambled implacably towards the team.  Exhausted, Zaeed collapsed beside Garrus, shaking his head.

The turian's nerves were frayed, his hands twitching, as he struggled to help his comrade up, to no avail.  Garrus grimaced at the giant husk, gesturing with his arm, overloading his omnitool to capacity for one final attack...

A giant rumble reverberated through the air, as the Berserker before him shrieked, armor plating coming off its torso.  Like canon-fire, slug after slug withered away the monstrosity.

On instinct, Garrus grasped the fallen Mantis at his side.  As another giant round brought the Berserker to its knees, Garrus sent arcs of electricity surging from his omnitool.  The beast writhed in agony, paralyzed.

"Scoped..."

The turian glanced down the barrel of his sniper rifle, putting a round through one of its eyes.  The bullet blew apart the upper part of the creature’s spine, leaving a giant hole where its neck had been.  The husk issued one final shriek before dropping silent, it's skull shattering against the floor.

"And dropped..."

Garrus fought for breath, as he felt a solid pair of hands bring him to his feet.  The turian turned wearily.  Zaeed rose to his feet as well, a blank expression on the man's face.

Before them stood a tall synthetic.  Smoke billowed out from the geth's Black Widow sniper rifle.  Garrus was used to geth being as tall as quarians, but this one was almost as tall as he was, though not quite as big as its larger brethren, the Geth Prime.

Even after so many years, Garrus still found the AI’s somewhat disconcerting.  Yet this one had saved his life, so he willed his hackles to lower.  The synthetic sported the red shoulder armor of Alliance special forces welded onto his chassis.

The geth nodded once to the turian, before turning to assist Kasumi.

"Are you functional, Ms. Goto?" asked the robot, helping her up.

"Revy!" laughed the woman, "what are you doing here?"

The Geth bowed its head, "this unit was...concerned, so we acquired a shuttle and followed."

Kasumi sighed, shaking her head as she stroked the geth's head, "you were worried about me?  That's nice of you."

Garrus chuckled, "you have a fanclub Kasumi?"

The former thief smirked, "we had a run in or two...Garrus allow me to introduce my friend, Revy..."

The Synthetic turned, standing crisply to attention, "Geth Unit Revenant, at your service Vakerian-Major.  This unit was previously saved during a mission with Ms. Goto, and we have had prior contact with Creator Tali Zorah."

"Well, not that we're ungrateful, but let's get to that airlock," said Garrus, "thank you for the save, Revenant, anything I can do to repay the favor?"

The Geth nodded, "as a representative of the Collective, we would like permission to come aboard and assist the crew of Dover."

Garrus stopped mid-stride, examining the synthetic.  He cocked his head to the side, glancing back at Kasumi, who was still draped against Pytar for support.  The Orthos tech expert weakly raised a thumbs up, tiredly nodding.  He turned now to Zaeed and Pytar, who both shrugged.

"Geth are damn useful in a fight," offered Zaeed, "you remember the Collector Base."

"I rather wish I didn't," quipped Garrus, "still, this kind of stowaway, I can accept."

The turian strode in silence, until he reached the airlock leading back to the ship.  The soldiers stationed at the exit stood at attention, glancing askance at the synthetic.

"At ease, he saved out hides," ordered Garrus, before turning to the Geth, "alright Revenant...welcome aboard."


	23. Two Objectives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 23

On the surface of Feros...

Shepard looked crossly at Liara, "why are you down here?  It's not safe for biotics."

“I told you,” argued the asari, “I’ll be fine, my exposure to the Cipher in your mind allows me to resist the Dampening Field!”

“But it isn’t a hundred percent,” persisted Shepard, “and the process can’t be replicated like you are thinking.  Shiala proved that already.”

“I tried it with Jack,” countered Liara, “and she’s fine now, recuperating.”

Shepard shook his head; he didn’t like it.  He could tell Liara was concerned, and grasped her hand in his.  The SPECTRE sighed.

“I’m going to shut down that Dampener,” said Shepard, “the field doesn’t seem to affect me that hard.”

“I’ll join,” said Liara, “and I should have the tech experience to take down whatever is causing this….”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why?” Liara demanded, putting her hands on her hips.

“Because I’m not about to test your theory in the heat of battle, I need you to stay back and take care of the vorcha.”

“That makes no sense, I’m more use to you shutting down that tech!”

Shepard was beside himself, “no you aren’t!  I don’t need to be worried about your head exploding, I’ll be fine!”

Liara’s eyes flickered, her skin glowing blue as her biotics flared in anger, “what is it Shepard, you think I’m not strong enough!?”

The SPECTRE closed his eyes, his voice unsteady, “not you…me…”

The asari blinked, unsure of Shepard’s sudden deflation, “why?”

The color drained from her face.  At that moment, Shepard didn’t seem like the brazen, cocksure soldier he had been a moment ago, he seemed rattled…

Shepard drew Liara up in his arms, squeezing tightly as he whispered in her ear, “Liara, you didn’t have to see what happened to Jack down here…she could have died.”

Liara tried to reply, but was stifled by Shepard’s expression.

“By some miracle, I was spared, must have been the Prothean Beacon, mixed with the Thorian Cipher.  I’m glad you came, I need your help…but not there…please, don’t make me watch you die…”

Liara’s breath caught, as she fought back the tears welling up in her eyes, “and how do you think I felt…for those two years…alone?”

Shepard nodded, “you’re not alone, I’ll come back, Shiala will have my back…but I need you to stay away…just…until we can test out your theory…can you do that for me…please?”

The asari shook her head, “that’s not fair…you’re lucky Jack isn’t here…”

The SPECTRE laughed, “I know, she’ll go on the warpath if we die…but I’ll come back to you.”

*********************

After several hours of preparation, seven brave souls gathered in the central control room, the heart of the colony on Feros.

“So, what’s the game plan?” asked Ashley.

Lizbeth Baynham brought up a holovid, showing two distinct points on the map.  The large terrain spanned across the display.  In the desert, near one of the great spires, an entire radius was blotted out with static.  Likely, the source of the Dampening Field was inside the spire contained in the dead zone’s center.

The other side of the map indicated a point within the catacombs, where the rachni and vorcha were fighting in a holdout against each other and the Remnant.

“Both objectives need to be neutralized,” explained EDI, “with the Dampening Field lowered, the colonists can focus on defenses, and with the catacombs cleared, those defenses can be reinforced over a wider area.”

Shepard nodded, “so Shiala and I will grab a Mako and take out the Dampening Field.  Meanwhile, the rest of you help the rachni break the siege.”

Terric shook his head, “you’ll need more backup.  The Dampening Field doesn’t bother me either.”

“Well, I could go too,” offered Ashley.

“No,” countered Shepard, “we need someone to lead the siege-break.”

“No offense intended,” said Terric, “but I owe Shepard a debt…I will allow no harm to befall him.  I’m sure Commander Williams wouldn’t miss working with me.”

Ashley tipped her head to the batarian, “well, someone needs to lead the other clambake…but I’m still not your XO Shepard.”

The Captain grunted, “fine…EDI, Liara, you back her up, make sure we have a base to come back to.”

“You got it,” said Liara.

********************

The Mako had been driving through the arid brush outside the colony for a couple of hours.  They were drawing close to their destination.

Shepard could see a glimmering spire drawing closer, the likely focal point for whatever was jamming communications and biotics across the planet.

He shook his head, needing to take his mind off the drive.

“So,” asked Shepard, “explain this debt you owe me…”

Terric nodded, staring out the window of the Mako, as the vehicle passed a scarred highway.

"Batarians are an aggressive people, by nature," explained Terric, "we aren't as hotblooded as the krogan, but it has affected our culture."

"Many on the council considered us the same," offered Shepard, "though personally, I don't see how it's so different from the turians."

Terric shrugged, "certainly, not all in our culture are war-hawks, just as with you.  However, it isn't uncommon to become more acquainted with your enemies, as opposed to your allies.  Perhaps even trust them."

"Ah," said Shiala, "the 'revered enemy.'  It is a concept in certain Justicar codes as well."

The batarian cocked his head to the side, considering the term, then shrugged again, "it is an apt a title as any."

"Wait," replied Shepard, "you value your enemies more than your friends?"

"Only the best ones," explained Terric, "to us, an honorable enemy can be more trustworthy than a casual friend.  For instance, you can always rely on the mindset and motives of a good enemy, not so one who would pretend to be your friend."

"So I’m an...honored enemy?" asked Shepard.

Terric grinned slightly, "not all of us see it this way, and certainly Balak has too many bitter feelings to see it as such.  But some in my clan do consider you an honorable man..."

The SPECTRE shook his head, "I didn't think any of you would say that, in light of the Bahak Relay incident..."

"That wasn't your fault Shepard," countered Shiala, "you had to stop the Reapers, and you sacrificed no less when Earth was attacked, not even a year later."

"You saved my life Shepard," continued Terric, "that alone put me in your debt, but I also organized groups of our people on Omega.  Many in the slums were alive to help Aria take it back from Cerberus and Reaper control...thanks to you..."

Shepard finally understood.  He had helped a contingent of batarians who had been suffering from the plague, an infection that had been spread by the Collectors.  Tensions had risen, and a separate group of batarians had captured human medics combating the disease.  Shepard's team had managed to get everyone out alive, including the batarians.

"You went out of your way to help us," reasoned Terric, "and you didn't have to, nor did you seek acclaim for it...these are not the actions of a dishonorable man..."

Shepard drew to a stop as they neared the spire, "well, it's a start...you can thank me if we make it out of this alive..."

No sooner had the Mako come to a stop, than an explosion wracked the tank.

"BRACE!" yelled Shepard, grabbing hold of the struts along the frame of the cockpit.

The Mako was knocked onto its side.  Shepard's vision was blurry, and smoke began to fill the inside of the tank.  The exit port creaked, refusing to budge.

Shepard raised a biotic Warp around the hatch, calling out to Shiala, "light it up!"

The asari nodded, pushing the opening biotically, a small detonation blowing the door wide open.  The trio collapsed out of the Mako, leaning against the vehicle for safety.  It was a testament to the tank’s resilience…the hinges were merely warped, the hatch hanging off the side of the Mako at an angle.

Shepard scanned the surroundings, making sure nobody had a sure shot behind their cover.  The sunlight was blinding, smoke and dust devils billowing in the wind.  Looking out from cover, Shepard could see the spire a short distance away, a valley separating it from their position.

"Goddess," whispered Shiala, taking in the Remnant forces strewn across the basin.

Some of these monstrosities seemed to consist of multiple disparate bodies.  It was as if the pulsating masses had been crushed together biotically.  Shiala had seen such horrors before, but still had to fight back the gorge rising in her throat.  Several Scions brought their bulks to bear on them.  These creatures had what seemed like giant tubes for arms, their hands the muzzle of some unholy canon.

Shepard shook his head, "the hell with this...Shiala, keep up a Barrier, make sure nothing hits us again!"

The asari nodded, spreading her hands as a bubble encased them and the vehicle.  No sooner had the field gone up, than several flaming bolts impacted against the shell, making dull thuds before cocooning into splotches of color.

"Whatever you are doing," grunted Shiala, "make it quick, I can't hold this for long!"

Shepard nodded to Terric, "help me push this over!"

The batarian blinked several times, as if clearing the daze from his senses.  Shepard's body was glowing with blue biotic light, and he could feel his cybernetics straining, as he pushed against the Mako.

Terric glanced at Shepard, gesturing at the land rover, "close your eyes!"

The SPECTRE did so, as Terric gathered energy into the glowing machinery in his arm.  The batarian reared his fist back, as the nanites in his omnitool gathered concussive force, through his armor, and into his hands.  Terric rammed his fist against the side of the biotically lifted tank, the concussive force sending ripples of pressure cascading outwards.  Shiala let out a cry of pain, as her biotic shield shattered.

"GET IN!" shouted Shepard, drawing up Shiala and unceremoniously tossing her into the vehicle.

The other two piled in behind her, and Shepard revved up the Mako's engines, "Terric, hold her down, this is going to be a bumpy ride!"

Shepard slammed his foot down on the accelerator, and the tank roared to life, surging forward.  It was further proof of the resilience of human engineering that the damn thing was still running.  Shepard grinned, taking a perverse pleasure as he rammed through the Remnant horde littered about the valley.  Blasts detonated all around the Mako, but the momentum was in their favor now.

"Shepard," muttered Terric, "that Spire is awfully close..."

"Yep..."

The batarian looked at the path leading up to the entrance, there was a small slab of molded rock that led into the tower.

"And we're still going terribly fast..."

"Yep..."

Shepard smirked as Terric grumbled a curse, strapping Shiala into the Mako.  The SPECTRE fired the main guns of the vehicle into the horde for good measure.  No use leaving the bastards behind to sneak up on them.

Terric gasped, his stomach rising to his throat, "you aren't going to..."

"Yep..."

As Terric secured himself and glanced up, he looked in time to see the Mako hit the makeshift ramp.  The tank lurched, the jolt almost made him bite his own tongue.  The batarian gritted his teeth, as a sense of vertigo took over, and his stomach now bottomed out, feeling as if it was going to his shoes.

"CRAZY BASTARD!" screamed Terric, as the Mako crashed through the front of the spire.

The trio were rattled about, strapped into their whirling cage, and the monitors inside the cabin blew out, sparks flying...encasing the team in darkness...


	24. Breaking the Stalemate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 24

Elsewhere on Feros' surface...

Red clay made up the arid land near the catacombs, the earth gleaming in almost golden hue against the beating of the world's sun.  Set against the backdrop of the cave system, decayed and ruined towers jutted from the ground...echoes of ghosts left from ages past...

Lieutenant Commander Williams staggered to a halt, leaning against a rusted metal beam that rose from the soil.  The run to get here had been a long one.

She glanced to her side, noticing Liara sitting on the ground, head between her knees, heaving for breath.

"Don't know...how you did all that," wondered Ashley, "are you alright?"

Liara's biotics had been paramount on the trek to the catacombs, helping the team overcome multiple Remnant ambushes.  With Ashley's battle-hardened training, combined with EDI's unassailable reflexes, it had made for an effective defense.

"Head is throbbing," muttered Liara, wiping sweat and blood from her face, "but I'll live...Goddess...I can't believe we made it..."

It had been a squad of three on foot.  Their Hammerhead transport had been shot down by a Scion.  The husks still unnerved Liara, even after this many years.  Sentient beings deserved better ends than to be grafted together upon a biotic canon.

Ashley shuddered, her mind clearing as she saw what lay before them.  A large hill predominated the entrances to the catacombs below.  Embedded against the small mountain's side, a crashed starship had made a crater nearly a hundred meters wide.

"I'm glad you two are working together again," chimed in EDI, "but don't push yourselves."

Ashley nodded, catching sight of several scientists.  She waved to them, and had to remind herself that the rachni with them were friendly.

Williams shuddered again, "I'm still getting used to seeing them as allies."

Liara slowly glanced up at the SPECTRE, still panting for breath as she stared pointedly at the human.

Ashley rolled her eyes, shaking her head at the obvious jab, "are you still on about that?"

The asari finally caught her breath, "until you come clean with Shepard...yes..."

She decided to let that one pass, paying attention instead to the welcoming committee.  EDI tried to lighten the mood with quips, but Ashley wasn't paying attention, just as happy to let the AI play ambassador.

She still didn't know where she was with Shepard, or the Normandy, for that matter.  Her duties to the Council weren't helping matters.  The SPECTRE rubbed her temples, her eyebrows twitching from stress.  Shaking her head, Ashley decided to deal with the present.  This mission was a blessing, giving her something concrete to fight and solve.  It had been years since Ashley had been on this planet...years since she had met Juliana Baynham.

The scientist seemed no worse for the wear, greeting the team warmly, "God, it's good to see you, the rachni have been at a stalemate with the vorcha ever since they crash-landed."

"I would think that the superior numbers of the rachni would have overrun the vorcha," stated EDI.

"Normally, yes," agreed Baynham, "but the Remnant forces attack both sides, and the ship the vorcha crashed in offers better defenses, buying them time to regenerate and recuperate."

Before Ashley could speak, another voice issued from Juliana's mouth, echoing with ethereal melodic beauty.

"I am deep in the roots with my children," uttered the rachni Queen, Noveria, "we will silence the sour notes for a time."

The scientist blinked again, once again a normal human woman.

“Still getting used to that,” Juliana shook her head, "the Queen's been going nonstop for weeks...this can't last."

Ashley nodded, "these vorcha, are they slavers?"

Baynham shook her head, "no other species on board, as far as we can tell."

Liara scanned through her omnitool, "I can see the ship specs from your defense cams, seems like an engineer strike force."

"That is similar," deduced EDI, "to the forces that work with N7."

Ashley nodded, beginning to see the asari's line of thought, "you think...?"

Liara shrugged, "worth a shot..."

"We tried talking with them already," said Juliana, shaking her head, "they fired at us."

Ashley nodded, "yes, but you are humans allying with the rachni."

"The rachni have been nothing but beneficial," offered EDI, "it is illogical for them to attack."

"Yes," agreed Liara, "but too many still remember when that wasn't the case...perhaps some fresh faces will help...I'll go."

Ashley shook her head, "no, you're still reeling from using all those biotics."

"I'm surprised you were able to," said Baynham, eyes widening in surprise, "only Shiala has been able to effectively assert her abilities."

Liara shrugged, "it's not perfect...but I think it's working...I should go..."

"Absolutely not," stated Williams, "the Captain would never forgive me if I let anything happen to you...stay put."

The asari looked like she wanted to say something, but closed her lips, glancing instead to EDI.

The AI cocked her head to the side, "Dr. Tsoni and I have been working on my infiltration protocols..."

Before Ashley could ask, EDI brought up her arm, tapping a few keys on her omnitool.  The AI's body was encased in a bright glow, and when the light faded, she was gone.  In her place was a short turian woman, adorned in full combat armor.

"I can't do this for long," explained EDI, "and it's not as effective as more humanoid body types, but I believe the vorcha will be more receptive to this form."

"Huh," Ashely grunted, at a loss for words.

Juliana widened her eyes in surprise, "that's...amazing!  How are you doing that?"

"Nanites embeded subcutaneously," explained Liara, "working in tandem with her omnitool relays."

"My body type only allows for certain configurations," offered EDI, her voice now appropriately gravelly, "some more effective than others..."

"Thus far," continued the asari, "nothing krogan, Elcor, or anything male, for that matter...though I suspect that's equal parts pride and physiology..."

EDI remained stone-faced and conspicuously silent.

"Huh," Ashley smirked, "Joker must LOVE this..."

EDI continued to remain conspicuously silent.

Ashley shrugged, "well, this will do.  EDI, you back me up...let's set up the white flag meet with the vorcha..."

"Very well," said EDI, breaking her silence, "but I suggest that I stay out in front..."

*********************

Lieutenant Commander Ashley Williams didn't think herself a bigot.  Considering the bad blood between humanity and many other races before the Reaper War, she'd been fairly liberal, if pragmatic.  After the War, however, none had the luxury to be xenophobic...except for the blind fools that made up the racist cabal, Terra Firma.

Well, whatever Ashley was, she certainly wasn't any of those things; contrary to the suspicion of some of her SPECTRE counterparts, who saw her as an unapproachable ice queen.  Ashley shook her head; thinking it similar to how Saren must have seemed, when that bastard had been a SPECTRE.  The thought left a foul taste in her mouth.

Still, she certainly would never have dreamed of her current predicament.  There, in a valley that lay under giant catacombs, and a crashed starship, Ashley was holding a summit.  Before her were several vorcha, adorned in combat leathers, and armed to the gills.

Far behind her, a battalion of rachni scouts and warriors lay still, trying to seem as unobtrusive as possible.  However, she secretly knew that several were sneaking behind enemy lines, should the worse come to pass.  And beside her, helping in this bizarre negotiation, was a female turian.  Except...the turian was actually an AI.  Despite having fought EDI, in one form or another, she was a being whom Ashley considered a close friend.

She glanced at the supposed leader of the vorcha engineer squad.  The only thing that seemed different about him were the scraps and ordnance stuck to his dark red armor.

The vorcha, a tall muscular specimen named Vash, growled at them, "how we know we can trust yoooou..."

Ashley stared straight into the vorcha's eyes, refusing to be seen as subservient.  It took every fiber of her being not to back down from those glaring orbs, but she held her ground.  Still, a part of her wished she'd brought more than just her pistol...

"I'm a Council SPECTRE," she shrugged, seeming not to care, "I don't really need to concern myself with that...however..."

She glanced at EDI, disguised as a turian, and nodded.

The AI nodded, clearing her throat, as she adopted a gravelly tone, "listen you fools, the Remnant'll paste us if we don't take them out together."

The vorcha growled in unison at this, clearly wanting to refute the claim.

"It's true," continued Ashley, "even the rachni are starting to feel it."

"Quite frankly, I'd be happy to leave the lot of you to burn," joked EDI, with a very turian sense of irony, "it'd be interesting to see which side lasted longer...before the Remnant wiped you both out..."

Vash snarled again, "how we know they not Remnant?!"

Ashley sighed, trying desperately to ignore all the flamethrowers and shotguns pointed at her, "listen, the rachni are just as anxious to take out the husks, but you attacked the scouts right after your ship crash landed."

The vorcha growled loudly at this, "THEY TOOK OUR PEOPLE!"

"Bullshit," countered Ashley, "that was the Remnant, and you know it, the rachni were unlucky enough to be around by the time you got your bearings..."

"Then we fight our way through you...and get our people back!"

The other vorcha shook their fists in approval, teeth gleaming behind bloodthirsty grins.

Ashley heard a click on her earpiece, as Juliana Baynham's voice whispered, "the Queen says her warriors managed to circle around.  If you can keep them busy, we can pincer them from behind..."

"No," said Ashley, to the vorcha and Juliana both, "we need to save your comrades too...let's stop this...and I promise I'll help you get them...together..."

"You're insane," whispered Banham through her comm-link, "but good luck..."

The two parties stared at each other for what seemed to be ages.  Ashley could feel her hackles rise, her skin twitching from the battle hum.  The vorcha slowly began to hunch over, as if ready to pounce.  EDI, still maintaining her turian guise, surreptitiously began to reach for her sidearm...

Ashley decided to play a different tack, relaxing her entire demeanor, cocking her head to the side, "alright, that's enough!  I'm gonna make the Remnant dead, you gonna join?  Or will you huddle in your cave, like a sick Pyjack?"

It was the same exasperated weariness that her mom had used on her as a child.  On the surface, her body language seemed non-threatening, but confident. It was a lazy sort of disdain, one that promised retribution if unheeded.  She was treating the vorcha like a petulant child, and if he reacted negatively, he'd be proving her right...Ashley only hoped the vorcha saw it that way as well.

More precious moments passed in awkward silence, the tension thick enough to cut with her omniblade.  Eventually, Ashley heard a strange coughing erupt from the vorcha leader's throat.  It slowly gained speed and increased in volume.  It took the SPECTRE several moments to realize the sound was one of laughter.

"I feel like krogan male," Vash shook his head, "in presence of angry krogan female...we not anger you..."

Ashley blinked several times, processing what he'd said, before arching her eyebrow.  No reason to let her resolve slack now...

"So, you’re listening to reason?"

Vash nodded, "smart choice...in presence of a Matron..."

Ashley nodded, "then I'll get my team ready, and you get your's.  We go in fast and light, and leave the rest here to guard the exit."

Vash grunted, as he turned, snarling commands to his subordinates.  The SPECTRE let out a deep breath, forcing her shaking hands to still as she walked away.

"Let me get this straight," chuckled Liara over the headset, "did he say he feared you like a krogan Matron, or was he proposing?"

Ashley rolled her eyes, pondering if she'd be held liable for murder out here in the colonies.

"Well, if you're up for jokes," replied Ashley, "then I guess you are up for an op to the heart of the Remnant hive."

"And Shepard calls me a slave-driver..."

Before Ashley could reply, a shrill call echoed through the catacombs.  As Ashley turned to the source of the sound, she saw a small unit of rachni pacing alongside a battalion of vorcha.

At first, she feared that they had started fighting, but Vash rushed up to her, issuing an odd salute.

"Rachni scouts warn us," he said, "saved my people, we attack Remnant now."

She gestured with a crisp and proper reply.  The Remnant must have been waiting for the opportune moment.  If the rachni had attacked the vorcha...Ashley shuddered.  They'd have been overrun, and the settlement would become a colony of husks by nightfall.  She shook her head, if they didn't get the job done, it still could.

Liara drew up beside Ashley, handing her a large caliber assault rifle.  The asari threw EDI a shotgun, and primed her own rifle.

"Time to put my training to the test."

The vorcha about them roared in assent, raising their weapons triumphantly.  

Ashley nodded to her comrades, grinning fiercely, "let's go kill some Remnant..."


	25. Archangel Returns to Omega

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 25

Omega was a bustling hive of barely contained anarchy.  It was an antithesis to the jeweled space station that governed outside the Terminus Systems.  In contrast to the Citadel, this space station was a collection of dens.  Independent people went about their lives, surviving on their own wits.  If there was any power, it was that of the various gangs and contractors.  However, above these, at the apex, was Aria.

More implacable than any of the corporations that failed to draw a foothold, the asari had maintained order amidst the chaos through cunning wit and iron fist...and not a little bit of seduction.

Sitting at a booth in one of the more upscale clubs, Garrus looked on bemusedly.  The turian nursed a glass in one hand, setting his gaze across the room.  Neon lights strobed throughout the club, illuminating the bar as well as the dance floor.  Against backlit cages, dancers of various species engaged in fetching acrobatic displays.  Garrus sniffed, realizing all the distraction didn't seem to withdraw from the air of anonymity.

Despite the music, it didn't blare, being just subdued enough that one could talk in the booths.  The light, while plentiful, failed to shed light into the shadows, which clung jealously to the various tables and corners in the club.  Despite to the public setting, it was a suitable place to hide from prying eyes.

Garrus took another swig of the stiff drink in his hand, casually glancing across at the figure seated across the booth from him.

"What do you want with me Bray?" he mused, "I'm trying to relax here..."

A red-skinned batarian shook his head gamely, "listen...SPECTRE...the last time you 'relaxed' in Omega, you managed to unite three entire gangs, AND all their enlisted conscripts, to engage in a futile war against a lone gunman."

"Don't forget air support," Garrus smirked, "I distinctly remember quite a bit of property damage...besides, wasn't Archangel taken down?"

"SHH!!!" the batarian twitched, "not so loud!  The only thing that lets them sleep at night is the thought of you, gone for good."

Vakerian shrugged casually.  Although, he had to admit...if he'd sent as many mercs after a single target, he'd certainly wish the job to be completed.

"Well," offered the turian, "rest assured, I don't intend to cause any fires while I'm here..."

"If intentions were credits," Bray sighed, "listen, the Boss is staying out of your affairs, as a payment for past courtesies.  We won't look into what you're doing, just tell us where the shit's going to fly...will you?"

The quarian beside him laughed slightly, "oh do be nice, it IS her backyard, I suppose..."

Garrus arched an eyebrow at the shapely woman.  Tali leaned back bemusedly, letting her hands rest on the very supple arches of her hips.

The SPECTRE cleared his throat, turning back to Bray, "alright...let's just say Aria wouldn't be unwise to look out for...visitors from Sur'Kesh..."

The batarian across the table sputtered his drink, "the STG?!  Are you sure?!"

Garrus nodded, considering his source was Kirrahe, a major in the STG itself, though Bray didn't need to know that.

"Damn it Vakerian!  Those fools aren't people you want to mess with!"

"I'm on friendly terms with a few of them," he replied, "don't worry..."

Bray shook his head, "this from a turian...you forget that those in STG became the first SPECTRE's."

Tali gestured with her hand, "a fact that the Major magnanimously overlooks...what brings you here to disturb out dinner?"

The batarian groaned, running his hand through his scalp crest before sitting up straight.

"Admiral Zorah," he began, "I bear a message for you from Aria...a good will token in deference to your former Commander."

Tali immediately dropped her coquettish smile, placing her drink down.  Aria T'Loak wasn't someone to be trifled with, nor one to trust unwittingly.  The quarian's musings were simply a way to mask her true motivations.  But if T'Loak was dealing with her agreements with Shepard, this was something else.  The history between the asari and Humanity's First SPECTRE was legend, especially here, in the heart of Omega.

She sat up in response, nodding to Bray, “proceed.”

He nodded back, "there have been...citizens of the station going...missing...of late."

Tali shrugged.  Missing colonists were no great mystery…certainly not here, on a rock like Omega.

Bray shook his head, noticing Tali's bewildered expression, "it's more than the norm.  Whole tenements are vanishing.  We haven't seen figures like these since before the end of the Reaper War."

“Like with the Collectors,” Tali nodded, "and...?"

"And," continued Bray, "many of the missing, a great many in fact...are quarian...mostly those fresh on Pilgrimage, and the younger ones..."

She shook her head, glancing at Garrus.

Vakerian nodded, "any suspects?"

Bray fiddled with his drink again, derailing the question, "we hear that Shepard is on his way to the batarian Hegemony."

The SPECTRE nodded guardedly.  The matter was public record, of course, but it wasn't his policy to divulge the inner workings of military or diplomatic initiatives.

"Let's just say," said the batarian, "that there are certain parties on their way here...with whom Shepard will want to speak...parties who are also looking into this distressing matter."

Tali nodded, "so the quarian people may have allies against these...thieves...why would Aria be so accommodating?"

"Batarian sectarianism will only hurt the rebuilding of Karshaan," Garrus grunted in reply, "besides...a breakdown in the negotiations will also mean a breakdown in trade routes..."

"And all the credits that will flow from that trade," Bray nodded in reply, "certain parties might call that a waste..."

"Well, that's Shepard's prerogative, but I'll pass it along, if I can," Garrus nodded, "certainly WE will look into this..."

Bray stood up, tipping his head slightly before taking his leave, "be sure that you do..."

Garrus and Tali sat in silence, considering what they'd just heard.  Quarians were vanishing.  Of course, the rite of passage was part of a quarian's puberty, their entry into adulthood.  With a newly reclaimed homeworld, many chose to stay and cultivate Rannoch.  That left only the most ambitious to seek their fortunes out in the galaxy.

Garrus understood.  His own homeworld was still recovering.  Palaven was barely little more than rock, and all the terraforming and reconstruction had only started to turn it all around.  If the best and brightest of his people were being abducted...

"We can look into this," he offered, "I know what the Council says, but this is important...and so are you..."

Tali started slightly, looking up at Garrus.  She understood his meaning.  He cared for her, and was willing to deny his orders for her.  Furthermore, she was an Admiral in the Quarian Flotilla, what remained of it.  On her official order, he was willing to go against the commands of the Council itself.

Once, she would have leapt at such an offer.  Looking back on it, her initial journey with Shepard had been a result of such behavior.  She didn't regret it...not for a moment...but she had more responsibilities now...to her people...and the Galaxy.

Tali closed her eyes, enjoying the indulgent thought a moment more, before shaking her head, "it's Shepard's job...we only came here to meet Major Kirahhe...Thessia needs us..."

"So does Rannoch...it seems."

She shook her head again, "not without proof...and once we have it..."

Garrus nodded, grasping her hand tightly.

Tali used her other hand to finish her drink, "come on...I need to dance..."

Vakerian barely had a moment to respond, before he was drawn up beneath the strobing lights of the dance floor.  The woman grasped him tightly, her curves molding to his body.  He swayed with her to the rhythm, twisting and turning their worries away.

She draped her head against his shoulder, "you dance rather well."

"Just trying to keep up with you," mused Garrus, smiling as he brushed a hand through a lock of her dark hair.

An impish grin appeared across her lips, "so, you ever take Elana dancing like this?"

Garrus blinked several times, his movements hitching slightly, as Tali glared at him intensely.

"Er...I...how did you know about...that?"

Tali sniffed, "you men...always thinking you are so clever.  Women know these things..."

Garrus shook his head.  The only other person he'd told about that was Shepard.  He wouldn't...

"I can see what you're thinking," said Tali dryly, "and no...it wasn't him...you just aren't as careful as you think...and on a ship, talk travels quickly."

"It wasn't what you think," sputtered Garrus, "there are plenty of turian combat units that deal with tension in-"

"Is that all I am Garrus, tension release?" pouted Tali sardonically, "well...I DID say I was using you for your body...I didn't think you'd be so literal-"

"NO DAMMIT," hissed Garrus in a hushed, yet adamant voice, "it isn't like that with you...I don't give a damn about my past...I LOVE YOU!"

She fell silent, as they both stopped dancing.  Several couples on the dance-floor beside them began to stare.  The crowd could see the argument, if not hear it.  Garrus shook his head, pulling Tali into a shaded corner of the room, where no eyes, nor ears, could spy on them.

Tali remained silent and unmoving, as Garrus wiped the sweat from his brow with a cloth.  He glanced back at the floor, making sure they weren't followed, and then looked back to her.

"Are you alright Tali," he asked, "look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you about my past, it just never meant-"

"What did you say?" she asked.

"I said it didn't matter," he stammered.

"No, I mean before that...back on the dance-floor."

Garrus stopped a moment, looking at her, and understood, "the only thing that matters is my time on Normandy, with the friends I've made, and, more importantly, meeting you..."

He laughed nervously, "only good thing to come out of this war...I'm sorry I never told you about this.  Nothing else really mattered to me before.  I should have said so, but I didn't realize.  You've never had this before either...have you?"

Tali shook her head, looking at Garrus, as she ran her fingers through the fringes on his head.  If she was honest with herself, there had been someone in her life...almost.  Of course she had known about Kal'Reegar, one of the Marines under her command on Haestrom...so long ago now...it seemed.  He'd died in the war, for all she knew, still holding a torch for her.  She valued him as a friend, but she hadn't had space in her heart for him.  

The Great Commander Shepard had been an inspiring figure...a dashing young hero who had pulled a child like her out of the gutter.  He had taken her on a whirlwind adventure to find her destiny, saved her life countless times, and been there every time she'd needed him.

She'd been in love with him, for a time, though she hadn't realized it.  He'd looked to her as a little sister.  In her naivety, she'd not questioned the relationship, until he'd found comfort in the arms of another.

Then he'd died, and feelings she hadn't known surfaced, only to be strained yet again a few years later.  But by then, he'd moved on, and so had she...it was just hero worship, she'd realized.

Still, it hadn't gotten any easier, not even when she'd become an admiral.  She had friends, of course, but she still felt alone.  But then, during the most trying time in her life, she'd found hope yet again.  Someone else had been beside her, from the very beginning...unassuming and unafraid.  Garrus had been quietly at her side, and she'd never noticed it until...

"Do you remember?" she asked, "when we first kissed?"

There was no way the turian would ever forget.  He'd sequestered himself in the gunnery room of the Normandy.  The guns had been calibrated as much as possible, but he hadn't known what else to do.  What did one do to prepare for a battle against the Apocalypse?

So he'd wandered the halls, until he'd found Tali in the Normandy's bar, staring out at the stars.  Unfortunately, there was no bottle left of brandy, at least not the kind that quarians and turians favored.  Then he'd remembered his private stock, back in the gunnery room.

He laughed, "heh, I invited you back for a drink, and before I knew it-"

"Someone barged in," she laughed recalling the look on Garrus and Shepard's faces.

He grinned back.

"I'm not mad Garrus," Tali sighed, "I've got history as well, but it doesn't really matter, does it?

He nodded, “I suppose not.”

She pursed her lips, leaning away from him a bit, "although..."

"Although?"

"Stop walking on eggshells around me," she reasoned, "or you can calibrate your own damn machinery!"

"Deal," the turian laughed.

As Tali leaned against him, her mouth seeking his, Garrus felt all thought leave his mind.  She pushed up against him, forcefully bracing him against the wall, all but melting into him.  Garrus fought to control his breathing, finding purchase on her hips, molding the pliable flesh to balance himself.  He felt Tali take the breath from him, lapping at it like a drug, as his head began to grow light…

Suddenly, an insistent chirping blared in his ear.  Garrus groaned in anger at the bothersome call, though still taking the moment to gasp for air.  Tali slowly backed away, her surprise turning into a smile.  She brought a finger to her lips, biting idly at her finger as she blinked herself back into consciousness…

The accursed ringing was ever more insistent.  Garrus took a deep breath, slapping himself on both cheeks.  He saw a passing waiter with a tray, grabbing a glass of ice water and drinking it in one gulp, ignoring the protest of the tiny salarian.

"This had better be good," said Vakerian gruffly, "I'm waiting on an important meeting..."

Tali smirked, stifling a laugh as she waggled her finger at him.

"Liar," she whispered.

Garrus made a cutting motion at her, clearing the static on his omnitool, "what is it?  Is anything wrong?"

"-said I got a courier," came Elana Pytar's voice, "Kirrahe's in trouble!"

Garrus and Tali immediately sobered, turning to the exit.  As Tali reached into the folds of her skirt, she drew a gun, offering it to Garrus. He shook his head, gesturing to the holster beneath his jacket, as he drew up to the lockers in the club, taking out a large duffel bag.

"What happened?" asked the SPECTRE.

"I don't know," said Elana, "but I just got the coordinates, sending them to you, I'm on my way."

"And where's Miranda and company?"

"Kasumi and Revenant are meeting a contact," said Pytar, "Miranda's scrambling remote hack attempts against the ship.  She and Zaeed are staying behind to make sure STG doesn't get the Dover."

Garrus shook his head, as he drew into a side room at the entrance of the club, clapping armor over his clothes.  Tali took off her skirt, revealing taut flesh as she donned her armor as well.  Garrus arched an eyebrow, before forcing himself to look away.

"We expecting trouble from them?" he asked.

"Who else could it be?" demanded Elana, "no use taking chances, I'll be en route to the scene."

"Meet you there," said Garrus, signing off.

He checked his assault rifle and pistol, securing them to his armor before turning.  Tali nodded to him, brandishing a shotgun, a pistol in her hip holster, before handing him his sniper rifle.

Garrus sighed, "looks like a firefight after all."

"Bray won't be pleased," she said, allowing herself to be led into their rented skycab.

"It's what Aria pays him for," he said, revving the engines before gunning the motor, "let's get there and finish this quick!"

Tali shook her head, "I'm worried about Kirrahe too..."

"Hell, he can handle himself, I expect just leftovers," laughed Vakerian.

She shook her head questioningly.

"I just want to get this over with," he explained, "so I can take you home, peel you out of that suit, and have dessert..."

"Sweet talker," Tali blushed, looking out the window, as if searching for following cars.

"Well, I kept my promise," he said all business again, "get your shotgun ready."

She nodded resolutely, as the hovercar raced through the lanes of Omega...


	26. Terric

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 26

The team had been running up the Spire for what seemed like ages.

"I still can't believe your species ever won the War," shuddered Terric.

"If the rest of his race is half as mad as Shepard," Shiala smirked, "how could there be room for doubt?"

As Shepard rounded another corner, he took sight, gunning down a husk.  After what they'd been through, the climb up the tower had seemed ridiculously simple.

"Don't forget competent," quipped Shepard, "and talented."

Shiala laughed, "of course, Commander."

The asari gestured with her arm, drawing up a group of Cannibals into a Reave field.  As the Remnant rose into the air, paralyzed, Shepard flung a Biotic Slam into the mass, causing a cascade of detonations that all but vaporized the husks.

"That's Captain..."

Terric continued to take point, felling husks left and right with his assault rifle.  His omnitool was ablaze, sending forth Overloads to stagger the foes, as he send round after round through their skulls.  The husks fell like wheat to a scythe.

Terric felt he understood, at last, the gallows humor with which Shepard comported himself.  It simply masked the cold, barely calculated calm within.  The batarian hadn't truly appreciated the horrors of the Reaper invasion until it decimated their homeworld.  But Shepard...he'd dealt with this burden for far longer, years before anyone else would believe him.  Hell, many had tried to lock him away for it.

Terric had thought raider skirmishes against the Council races had been bad enough.  The Reaper War eclipsed anything that had come before.  Now he could understand the SPECTRE's cavalier attitude...how many years of battle would it take, for Terric to become the same?  Could he remain as optimistic as Shepard, or would he become a jaded wreck?

Terric counted his blessings, and thanked his luck that it was this particular human who had found him.  Shepard continued to lead his team through the dark metal hallways, until Shiala beckoned for them to stop.

Shiala brought up her omnitool, "looks like the signal's coming from over here..."

Terric grunted, "let's hope that's the last of the husks then..."

The SPECTRE shook his head, "we should be so lucky..."

As they crested a set of stairs, the team came up to an alcove.  It seemed they were better than halfway up the spire.  Windows peered into the deserted wastes outside, offering them a bird's eye view of the arid lands surrounding the tower.  The room was a large semicircle.

Shepard drew up against a locked door.  After the long haul to get here, hacking the door was comically short.  Still, better to take his breaks where he could.  Shepard ushered the rest of the squad through the doors.  He followed them into what seemed like a large research lab.  The ceiling rose high, several floors worth.  Against the opposite end of the room, he could see more windows, several conduits, and most importantly...

"Those have to be the central controls," sighed the asari, with relief, "the large computer bank there."

Shepard began to decode the messages on the central computer, his omnitool's protocols making short work of the encryption on the databases.

'I'll have to thank Liara for the upgrades,' he thought, grunting appreciatively.

Terric frowned, as several bits of data streamed onto the screen, "hold up, what's that?"

Shepard stopped the data download, focusing on the symbols that had drawn Terric's attention, "do these look familiar to you?"

The batarian remained silent, mulling over his thoughts.  He glanced surreptitiously at Shiala.

Shepard nodded, "secure the perimeter, make sure we have an exit."

The asari glanced askance at the two, but slowly nodded.

He turned back to Terric, crossing his arms, "alright, what is it?"

"What I told you before was true Shepard, but I had other goals too."

The SPECTRE nodded, "I know."

"You KNEW?!"

"I suspected, I've played the game long enough," shrugged the human, "I know never to believe in coincidence.  So what were you doing, intelligence gathering?"

"Of a sort," Terric grunted, as he scanned through the data, "these symbols, I've seen them before Shepard...they're batarian..."

"What," wondered Shepard, "are you sure?"

The batarian nodded, "my clan has been at odds with another.  This other clan is part of the conservatives, those who still believe in the war against humanity.  We had intel that the Akesh Clan was dealing in secret weapons testing, but this..."

Shepard shook his head, thinking over the ramifications.  This was a human colony world, with a base that had been host to a Remnant occupation force.  Now, they had learned that the resources in the spire belonged to batarian hard-liners.

"This can't be good," spat Shepard, "it means someone is in league with the Remnant...trying to take control of the Reaper forces we've been fighting."

Terric shook his head, "it's more than that...take a look at this..."

The batarian brought up a document on the display, "the authorization info has been redacted, but check the resource statement."

"Data caches and resources received from Paladin," read Shepard, "transmit results to Command upon completion.  Who is Paladin?"

Terric shook his head, "none of the clans have the technical resources to fund something like this, and not just monetarily."

Shepard nodded, "and the only ones with access to info on this tech were involved in the Reaper War..."

The batarian nodded, "I know it sounds...absurd, and there's no hard evidence; but could Clan Akesh be working with...Cerberus?"

The SPECTRE shook his head again.  Cerberus was defunct, ravaged in the final war with the Reapers.  Miranda had made it part of Orthos' goal to mop up the dregs.  However, if some had survived, he couldn't see them uniting under a banner, just to team up with a extremist batarian clan...the two would, by rights, be bitter enemies.

"There's something else, another player," pondered Shepard, "we aren't seeing the whole picture.  Perhaps this Paladin has been gathering up the old Cerberus network that didn't join Orthos."

"Wouldn't Orthos know?"

Shepard shook his head.  Miranda was resourceful, but only the Illusive Man had enjoyed access to all the knowledge and resources that Cerberus held.  Anything was possible in this power struggle to draw those old resources.  In fact, Miranda had suspected this outcome.  But whoever had been gathering up the dark dregs of the old Cerberus, they had done a damn good job.  If Miranda, or someone as well connected as Liara, didn't know about them...

Terric came across another schematic, "shit...they were working on making an infantry mounted version of this Dampening Field."

Shepard's eyebrows twitched at this last statement, "what the hell would that do to someone with Biotic Amps?"

"From what I'm reading," muttered Terric, "it could fry the amps right out of your body...perhaps even tech amps, in time.  Our only luck is that the weapon is still in testing phase.  We need to destroy this data before anyone else can access it, especially if it is Clan Akesh."

Shiala was drawing back up to them again.  Terric began to access the safety protocols with his omnitools, "alright, I am blocking outgoing signals, which should buy us enough time to download and destroy-"

Suddenly, the screen before them went black.  A series of characters appeared on the terminal, coalescing into a sentence.

'NOT THIS TIME CLAN VERRAD...'

An emotionless electronic voice began to issue from the speakers of the terminal, "EVACUATE...SELF-DESTRUCT SEQUENCE ENGAGED..."

Before anyone could reply, a large portion of the ceiling caved inwards.  Shrapnel flew in all directions as the metal grating fell, smoke billowing everywhere from the torn environmental cables.

"Shit, that's all we needed," coughed Shepard, "alright people, on your feet, let's scrub that data and move!"

As the SPECTRE's vision cleared, he noticed a large shadow drop from the ceiling, landing with a resounding thud, which shook the floor.  Shepard peered into the shadows, and two glowing lights peered back, angry red with a golden pallor.  Whatever it was, the damn thing was huge...he could see the silhouette filtering through the smoke.

"What the hell," demanded Terric, "is THAT?!"

The smoke cleared, and Shepard came face to face with a hulking monstrosity.  It towered above him, easily over ten feet tall.  It seemed an unholy amalgamation of multiple vorcha.  Viscous green liquid spattered down to the floor from its maw, as the claws on its large arms scraped against the floor.

The Berserker brought its arms up quickly, much faster than Shepard would have thought possible.  Shiala rammed into Shepard's side, as they dodged the attack.  The conduits behind them fried, the terminal emitting sparks.

"It's the overloaded Dampening Field!" spat Terric, "a direct hit will kill us!"

The beast seemed to be recovering, and Terric took the opportunity to close the distance.  He emptied his shotgun dry into the beast, but its shields took the brunt of the force, the armor barely chipping away.  The Berserker thrashed with its gargantuan arms, flinging the batarian away like a rag doll.

Terric slammed against the wall with a crunch, and fell to the floor.  His prone body went limp, and the batarian's eyes rolled to the back of his head.  Shiala thrust her hands before her, creating a large biotic Singularity around the beast.  The Berserker gnashed its teeth, managing to creep forward slightly.

"Quickly!" urged the asari, "I don't know how long I can hold the damn thing!"

Shepard screamed in defiance, as he began to fling Warp fields at the creature.  A series of biotic detonations rocked the behemoth.  It's shields dropped with a sharp pop, as its armored chitin shell began to warp, sloughing off in layers.  Shepard's nerves began to burn, blood dripping down his nose.  He was taxing his amps to the limit, the effort taking its toll on his body.  The SPECTRE ignored the white-hot throbbing in his skull, continuing the attack.

Despite their efforts, the Berserker still wouldn't go down.  It raised its hand, a violet light emitting from the biotic amp in its arm.  Shepard knew he couldn't move in time...he was dead...

With a cry, another bulk slammed against the monstrosity.  The biotic attack exploded in the Berserker's face.  Terric cried out in agony, as the close range Dampening Field overloaded his amps, causing small explosions to rack his body.  The batarian screamed against the pain, wrapping his fists around the Berserker's throat.

Terric grinned defiantly, blood flowing from a dozen wounds.  The only thing that held him together seemed to be his armor,  "got you...you bastard."

Before the Berserker could so much as growl, Terric activated a switch in his armor.  Giant shards of shrapnel flew like spikes from his suit, eviscerating the Remnant behemoth.  The flying slivers cut through its unshielded body, as the beast flung him away.  With a final groan, the Berserker collapsed, as if a puppet's strings had been cut.

Shepard drew up to Terric's side.  The batarian braced himself against a terminal, dark red streaks trailing along the railing behind him.  He was barely breathing, coughing in fits, blood leaking from the corner of his mouth.

A morbid part of the SPECTRE's mind wondered at how it was little different from human blood.  He supported Terric, sitting him up straight against the terminal.  Shepard went pale, as he felt the damage along Terric's neck, his hand coming away thick with blood and viscera.

Terric coughed, "sorry Shepard, that damn gun of his fried my biotic amps...there's holes where the contacts should be..."

Shiala gasped, drawing up behind them, "if that had hit us..."

The Captain gestured to the central conduit, "download the last bit of data off those drives, before this place blows..."

Already, bits of scaffolding began to fall, various screens flickering as the power surged through the breakers, blasting the circuitry here and there.  Shepard wasn't paying attention, bringing his focus to Terric.

"Why didn't you tell us?" he demanded, "this was a suicide run for biotics..."

"Wasn't using them," Terric chuckled, wincing in pain, "besides, when did that ever stop you?  It's okay...we put a stop to their plans..."

Shepard shook his head, "Balak won't get away with this."

The batarian pulled an amulet from his neck, forcing it into Shepard's hand, "not Balak, probably not...it's all there...I'll have to...entrust it to you..."

Shiala lightly tapped Shepard on the shoulder, nodding as he turned, "can we get him up?"

"I can't move," said Terric, "my body's in tatters...the shock would kill me..."

Shepard shook his head, unable to say a word.

Terric weakly pushed Shepard's shoulder, "go, my tech amps are the only thing keeping me alive.  My omnitool is slowing the destruct, as well as blocking any outgoing signals about the research here...it's a win for us..."

"No it isn't," replied the SPECTRE, in a clipped voice, "looks like I failed again..."

Terric pondered a moment, then laughed, "I think I understand you better...the cycle has to stop sometime...right?  Else, we can't start over..."

Shepard nodded, "we could have been good friends."

"We were better...we were good...enemies..."

Shepard grasped Terric's hand one more time, "honored enemies..."

Shiala pulled Shepard's shoulder again, "if we want to make it out alive, we need to head to the Mako now..."

Terric glanced bemusedly at the human before him.  He'd never have believed he'd give his life for a human, but he could regret nothing, "get out of here, I got this..."

Whatever his comrades said, Terric couldn't hear it anymore, his vision beginning to blur.  He only closed his eyes for a moment, it seemed, and they were gone.  Terric struggled to remain conscious.  Until the facility blew, he had to block the signal, and buy time for Shepard to get out.

He smiled, his last few missions playing out in his head.  It had been good work, honorable work.  He could ask for none better to continue the job.  Shepard was accomplished, he would get it done, he had to.  Terric saw the conduits in front of him catch blaze, sparks flying from the computers.  Shrapnel and glass flew, signaling the death knell of the spire.

After decades of fighting, Terric was tired...he sighed, as he closed his eyes at last...finally it was time for rest...


	27. Shades of Terra Nova

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 27

Over a thousand klicks away, a lone batarian viewed his monitors with disdain.  The room was a dark cave, holograms from the viewing screens casting a blue glow over the bulkheads, which were braced against the rock.  Chaarn leaned back in his chair, shaking his head at the screen.  The last time he'd met Shepard, the bastard had him on the wrong side of a gun.

Back then, Chaarn had been working for Balak, charged with making sure a meteor crashed into the Human colony of Terra Nova.  But he wasn't about to die on some misbegotten rock, so he'd made a deal with Shepard.  It had been simple, Chaarn would let Shepard go, the SPECTRE would kill Balak, and Chaarn would take Balak's position.

Except it hadn't gone down that way.  Not only had Shepard let Balak escape, he'd brokered a ridiculous 'peace' with the batarian.  Balak had led the Hegemony's remaining forces into the final battle against the Reapers.  The resulting accolade had skyrocketed Balak into the admiralty, while Chaarn lingered as a castoff, a traitor who had sought umbrage with whomever had use for such a pariah.

And all because of Shepard.  Chaarn had been beside himself with rage.  Despite blowing the research base, the obstinate human managed to survive.  At least he'd taken down that Verrad spy...good riddance.

Chaarn sent out a coded transmission, and soon, two figures were displayed on the screens before him.  The figure on the left, as always, was shrouded in shadow, only the gold eyes casting any light.  The batarian shuddered, still unable to look at the Collecter, Atrayus, without feeling a chill up his spine.  Of course...the figure in the other screen was little better.

"General Garmok," said Chaarn, dipping his head, "I regret to inform-"

"I can see what happened," snarled a batarian with pale green skin, a burn scar adorning the top of his head crest, "fool...you should have killed Shepard."

"He was forewarned," protested Chaarn, trying to ignore the metallic shrill in the other batarian's voice, "the human's are using some form of new communication, utilizing simple, short-range sounds."

"The bleating of sheep," uttered Atrayus, "they cannot stop us."

Chaarn was about to answer, when he noticed several alerts appearing on his screens.

"What is it?" demanded Garmok.

The screens showed several intruders on the outskirts of the catacombs.

"It seems...the rachni have joined with the vorcha," replied Chaarn, fighting to keep his voice steady.

He also caught sight of more familiar faces, members of Shepard's accursed crew were apparently leading the charge.  Slowly, but surely, they were routing the Remnant husks.

"They should never have been allowed to meet with a clansman of Verrad," snarled the General, " damn traitors."

"Frankly," said Chaarn, "I expected them to forget their alliances, in the frenzy of battle."

"This is why vorcha are unreliable as anything but fodder."

"You have the Berserkers?" demanded Atrayus.

Chaarn glanced at two giant tubes, where the vorcha captured from the crash had been...processed.  The batarian had seen what these things were capable of, and didn't care to be nearby when they awoke.  He shuddered, and nodded in reply.

"Then escape with the Thorian research," commanded the Collector, "I am activating them now..."

Chaarn's eyes widened, and he barely had time to shriek in protest, as the cryo tubes holding the Berserkers began to hiss, letting out steam.  The batarian didn't say a word, rushing to a large refrigerated unit set against the wall.  He hurriedly gathered the tubes and samples, placing them within a large case.  Though unable to get the data from the spire, Chaarn had already downloaded the project files from his current research onto his omnitool.

Crazy maniacal fools, if he hadn't had the foresight to do so, he wouldn't have the time to pull the records, before the Berserkers destroyed everything.  Finishing his task, Chaarn pointed at the terminals before him, sending a series of shocks to Overload the units.

"Let them try salvaging ANYTHING from that...bastards..."

Chaarn soon heard the hungry growls of the two goliaths.  Large armored fists began to crash against the tubes, which cracked.  Without preamble, Chaarn grasped the case with his research.  He didn't know if Shepard's crew would manage to survive the onslaught, but he wasn't about to stick around in this hellhole and find out...

"Got to reach that shuttle..."


	28. Journey through the Extranet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 28

Kasumi Goto was the greatest thief in the galaxy, though few knew of her, and she liked it that way.  As such, skulking about the slums of Omega, unseen, was no great task.  She all but melted into the shadows.  For when she didn't, Kasumi’s tech could allow her to simply vanish.

Her companion didn't care, however, and she heard a chirp in her ear.

Kasumi sighed into her intercom, "for the last time Revy, I'll be fine...it's not like I needed the backup."

The synthesized voice of the geth replied, "such concerns are irrelevant Kasumi, it is unwise to underestimate Omega."

The thief sighed again.  She wasn't being careless.  Still, Kasumi couldn't help but laugh at the geth's endearing loyalty and concern.  Revenant adored her and Tali like idols, ever eager to prove his worth.  It had taken a bit of coaxing to allow Tali and Garrus to go on their "date" without Revenant as chaperone.  Leaving Kasumi alone as well was out of the question.

Even so, Goto welcomed the backup.  The entire day had been spent tracking down leads and contacts, anything that could give her information on the data packet their Agents had died for.  The information header had been easy to decipher, Tali had barely even needed Orthos' security codes to hack into it.  The data within, however, was more...complicated.  The lines of code were immaculate, containing algorithms heretofore unseen.  Tali had been flabbergasted, and even the indomitable Administrator Lawson had been taken aback.

Then Kasumi had stated that the words made sense to her, although the formulae were still gibberish.  Miranda had surmised that it had something to do with Kasumi's graybox, a repository of all the information in her omnitool, acquired over a lifetime.  More importantly, however, the exploits of her oldest and dearest friend, Keiji Okuda, were contained within as well.  Even after so many years, he was still with her…

Kasumi forced herself to focus on the present, lightly slapping herself in the face.  Before her was a nondescript building of rusted metal and neon lights.  It looked like little more than a bomb shelter, but Kasumi knew better.  Contained within these confines was one of the busiest information hotspots in Omega.

On the surface, it seemed like any other social establishment on Omega, half holo-cafe, half dance-club.  Kasumi could see through the facade, and so could Aria T'Loak.  Aria had chosen to let the building stand, however.  It pleased the “Pirate Queen of Omega” to know WHERE her enemies were, so she could let them feel safe while keeping an eye on them.

What baffled Kasumi was how Miranda had gotten Aria to agree to their arrangement.  The theif was going to break into the place and crack its drives for secrets.  Specifically, she was going to crack into the data of one of the most elusive figures in the Terminus.

 Kasumi shook her head, "so remind me again Revy, who is this...Shade, and what are we stealing?"

From his perch on a nearby rooftop, the Geth looked down at Kasumi.

He verified her status through the scope of his sniper rifle, before replying, "according to Aria T'Loak, soon after the destruction of the Collector base, a sentient began acquiring much of the secret technology beyond the Omega-4 Relay."

"Hmm," groaned Kasumi, "someone who was able to ghost past the security nets of Aria, Miranda, AND the Shadow Broker."

"Yet has never made their presence known," explained Revenant, "even the moniker is an affectation of Omega's residents."

"For someone who has so much tech and influence," said Kasumi, "some don't even believe Shade exists.  I'm supposed to be a ghost, and even I'm not sure I believe that bologna."

"Bologna?  What is this substance?" asked the Geth.

"Pray you never find out," replied Kasumi, sagely.

She saw a group exiting the building, and made her move, engaging her cloak and slipping in before the door closed.

"Be careful," warned Revenant, "there is enough interference that I am having difficulties tracking targets inside."

Kasumi nodded, "you can see me via thermoptics?"

"Affirmative."

"Then if you start shooting, just avoid ME, this place is crowded."

Indeed, the theif wasn't joking.  The inside of the club was an unending chasm of a ballroom.  Glimmering lights from the ceiling threatened to blind her, wreaking havoc on her cloaking field.  Her suit's omnitool was already getting hot from trying to cope with all the shifts in lighting.

She sidled into an abandoned alcove, one of countless many, and made sure she couldn't be seen.  The booth was replete with plush red velvet seats.  A series of computer terminals nestled in the middle of the minibar.  Kasumi gestured with her omnitool, and the privacy screen closed.  The theif allowed herself to finally disengage her cloak, breathing a sigh of relief as her suit cooled.  She then stretched, like a cat preparing for a hunt, and jacked into the terminal…

Her holodisplay plunged her into the virtual world, leaving the sights and sounds of the club behind.  Suddenly, she was swimming in a sea of pure knowledge, with unfiltered sensations that threatened to overwhelm her.  The task before her would have crushed most people, but Kasumi was an artist where this was concerned, and continued to dive in.

Kasumi began her breathing exercises, calming herself, and forced the world to conform to a vision that she could understand.  Slowly, the walls coalesced, and the world came into focus.  The theif had been going for a classic Japanese teahouse, albeit a large one.  She didn't quite get her wish.  The result was half teahouse, half shopping mall.  Granted, it was the largest mall she'd ever seen, one large enough to encompass a planet, it seemed.  

This hub was unlike any she had ever hacked before.  Corporations and gangsters towered here like giant castles.  A myriad of hackers and runners constantly sought to prize information from these strongholds in the sea of information.  Here are there, she could see flashes, as others traversed the Extranet matrix.

Kasumi ignored the lights and sounds of this new world, forcing herself to parse the information she needed to see.  She'd have to thank Revenant later, for allowing her into his collective.  Without the training she gleaned from sifting through that deluge, she'd have been completely overwhelmed by what she saw here.  Comparatively, this was like swimming through a pool, after having done a marathon through a torrential channel.  

It wasn't long before she found her target, an odd confluence of data that seemed random, but wasn't.  Even corporate data mining wasn't that hard for her, taking the slightest of concentration to break.  But soon, she began to come across code that took all her thought.  Kasumi could barely read the figures, and it wasn't until Keiji's graybox began showing through her filters that she knew she'd hit jackpot.

"Clever," she whispered to no one.

If the world was a teahouse cum shopping mall, here was the utility closet, the back gate that SOMEONE wanted no one to see.  It seemed like an empty wall of blinding neon, but Kasumi knew better.  She broke through with some effort, and fell through the barrier, into utter darkness…

It felt like when she'd seen Keiji, in the program left behind in his graybox.  It was a nostalgic feeling, but Kasumi pushed passed it, and lines of code began to stream around her, and through her.

She smiled, "I'm in...Revy..."

The reply was muffled, which was odd.  Even through the filters, she should have been able to hear the Geth.  Suddenly, Kasumi felt the hairs on her neck raise on end.  She glanced around, immediately cloaking before fading into the shadows.  She didn't know what set her off, but Goto had learned over the years to trust her instincts.

The thief heard a small series of claps, though from where, she couldn't tell.

"Well done," rasped a voice, "no one has ever gotten this far before..."

A figure appeared in the space where she had been, a collection of shadows.  Kasumi saw a cloaked figure at the edge, where the light ended.  A shimmering along the surface of the figure's coat informed the thief that it was actually a hologram.  A hologram ON TOP of an avatar?  Whoever this was, they were downright paranoid.

"So glad you're impressed," hissed Kasumi sardonically, "Shade I presume?"

The figure nodded.  From its height and build, Kasumi assumed the Shade was a turian, or perhaps a stocky quarian, though she still couldn't discern gender.  This world was fake, it was true, but avatars could only hide so much of the original person.  This was why she preferred breaking in the old fashioned way, in reality.  Paradoxically, it was easier to hide in plain sight.

Kasumi said nothing more, instead scanning the area for assailants.  She honed the controls of her omnitool.  The data spike might alert security, but she couldn't risk being caught unawares.  The figure before her didn't move, and Kasumi called to the geth once more.

"You there Revy?" said Kasumi, "I've made contact."

"Signs of ambush," informed the Geth over her comms, "I've confirmed multiple wavelengths."

Goto nodded, as she slowly stepped forward, "well, no time to waste then."

The Shade crossed its arms, a synthesized voice emitting from the hologram, "I hear you have questions for me..."

Kasumi nodded, bringing out a data stick containing a copy of segments from Keiji's Graybox, as well as a portion of code retrieved during her rescue by Garrus.  It was a representation of the real thing, of course, but in this world, such things had weight.

"Ran into some Remnant, they seemed keen on this info," she stated, handing the datastick to the holo, "I would try taking the info I need from you, but I figure we can trade instead."

Shade's hood shook in the negative, as the figure gestured with its omnitool, "why do you need my help?"

Kasumi arched an eyebrow, "most users aren't familiar with tech from beyond the Relay."

"What makes you think I am?"

"Don't take me for a fool," Kasumi shrugged, "and how does one become so...friendly with this tech?  The Collector's get their claws on you or something?"

The figure didn't respond to the question, stating instead, "why go through the trouble of deciphering this code for you?"

"Survival," sniffed the thief.

The hologram straightened itself, as if preparing for agression, "really...?"

“Not that way,” Kasumi rolled her eyes, "look, if someone’s using Remnant-"

"The Remnant are nothing," whispered the Shade, "mere pawns."

"My point exactly," countered Kasumi, "something bigger is going on here...something that won't leave you alone any more than the rest of the galaxy."

The shrouded hologram seemed to ponder a bit, "you're saying there's no hiding from this?"

"Don't waste my time," groaned the thief, "I'm the best at disappearing, and even I can see that.  You wouldn't have come here if you didn't know the same."

"Very candid...and pragmatic."

Kasumi laughed, "well, hanging around the likes of Shepard-"

Upon hearing the SPECTRE's name, Shade's head snapped up, "you know him?"

"Uh...yeah, why?  Does that matter?"

Shade nodded, "I'll work on the code breaker and get back to you..."

She hadn't been an operative in Orthos for long, but Kasumi had been playing the game for a long enough to know when her contacts were hiding something.

"What about Shepard?  He's involved in this?" she shook her head, "Of course he is...when isn't he?"

"Your enemy is intimately familiar with Reaper technology, and has reasons to seek out Shepard.  If you get involved, you'll be in the way."

“He’s my friend.”

“Let’s hope that’s enough…”

The hologram disappeared, as Kasumi protested.

"Wait, you can't just leave it at that!  Why can't you tell me anything more?!"

She heard the voice once more before it faded completely, "because you are not ready...and I'm not prepared to die...just yet..."

Kasumi felt a rush, like a breeze flowing through her, as lines of code downloaded into her omnitool.

"Protocols to contact me," said Shade, "be careful..."

Kasumi nodded, her voice harsh as she logged out, 'I'LL BE IN TOUCH...'

Revenant's voice came clear in her comm as she exited the virtual space, "multiple vectors closing in on your position, I am preparing to fire through the walls."

Goto shook her head, engaging cloak immediately, "negative, engage the remote hack protocols we set up."

Without preamble, several terminals about the cafe began to sizzle, issuing smoke.  The resulting confusion was more than enough distraction for her to slip past several cloaked figures.  Kasumi noted the armor beneath the shrouds.  The red armor was usually worn by krogan and vorcha, but these figures were distinctly more humanoid.

"Hmph...if these jokers are Blood Pack, I'm a Councilor."

She slipped out of the cafe, completely bypassing the patrols, she wasn't about to take on a mercenary hit squad single-handedly.

Kasumi had barely time to breath before Revenant's voice came from her comm, "Kasumi!  Lawson-Director has sent a priority message."

"Great," groaned the thief, rubbing the tension from the middle of her forehead, "what's the emergency?!"

"Vakerian-Major," replied Revenant, "he needs our assistance against the salarian STG."

"Damn...this is why we can’t have nice things…"


	29. Legacy of the Leviathans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 29

Ashley and her team had been battling through a sea of husks for several hours, a grim and tiring task.  She'd never fought beside rachni before, and rarely done anything with vorcha except fire at them.  The efficiency with which these two forces dispatched Remnant was...disconcerting.  Even EDI was taken aback, looking upon the killing field with an overly stoic expression on her (still turian looking) face.

Liara arched an eyebrow, throwing out a singularity to gather several Husks on their flank.  Three vorcha surrounded the floating Remnant, engulfing the gathered cluster in flame, before turning to slash their way through more.

EDI gestured with her omnitool, freezing solid a batallion of Cannibals, before two rachni scouts charged in, lashing out with their tendrils, leaving nothing of the Remnant but shards.

Ashley shook her head, this had been far too easy.  Something wasn't right.

Vash, the leader of the vorcha, caught her look, and laughed, "no worries!  We scatter them like flies!"

As if on cue, she heard a series of angry roars echo throughout the hallway.  The other Remnant actually stopped moving, falling silent as well.  A deep rumble shook through the catacombs, scattering rachni, vorcha, and Remnant alike.  Ashley placed her back to Liara, as “turian EDI” drew beside Vash, the leader of the vorcha.

"The stragglers are fleeing," whispered Liara.

Ashley saw what she meant, and turned to the nearest rachni scout, "don't let the Husks escape, we'll take care of whatever this is!"

The rachni turned to her, seeming to dip its head slightly, before issuing a trill and heading after the nearest fleeing Remnant.  The rest of the "space spiders" followed.

Ashley shuddered, "now there's a fight I don't care to see."

Before anyone could reply, an entire section of wall came hurtling down.  Out of the dust, a hulking monstrosity strode forward.  Ashley first heard the hissing growls, then saw the glowing eyes.  She then noted the armored bulk and clawed arms.  It took her a moment, but she finally realized what she was seeing.

"Well," she mused, "we know what happened to your people...I'm sorry Vash."

The vorcha calmly strode forward, cocking his head to the side.

Glancing back at the SPECTRE, he flashed teeth, "you right, Matron Ash-lee, this a much better fight!"

The other vorcha scattered about them replied with their own war-cries.

Slowly, EDI turned.  Ashley glanced at the AI's affected turian face, noticing a twitch about the android’s lips.

"Don't-"

"That was a joke," quipped EDI, dropping the gravel in her voice slightly.

Liara stared at them, shook her head, and started to laugh at the absurdity of it all.  Ashley closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before glaring at the Berserker before her.

"Remind me to instruct you later in proper humor," she grunted at EDI.

Ashley stormed towards the Berserker, sending round after round into the beast.  She loaded the Mattock with armor piercing rounds as she emptied the first thermal clip.  Vash's grin spread from ear to ear, the bloodlust sparking in his eyes, as he rushed to Ashley's side...

***************

In orbit outside Feros...

Chaarn cleared the sweat from his brow.  He had escaped the planet opposite where the Normandy was stationed.  The last thing he needed was a face to face with THAT accursed ship.  The batarian allowed himself to stop shuddering before he placed the call from his shuttle.  Almost immediately, the two figures from before were on holo-display.

"The Dark Energy weapon is lost," cursed Garmok, "it would have been a great boon..."

Chaarn had to look twice at the batarian on the screen.  If he didn't know any better, he could have sworn the eyes seemed to glow with a red hue.  He shook his head, as the static flickered across the screen.  His mind was playing tricks on him… he hoped…

"It is of no consequence," replied Atrayus, "send me the Thorian tissue samples, and leave those ants to scurry about..."

"But the Dampening Field research-"

"Will pale in comparison to what we have planned for those samples," said the Collector, "as will what I do to you, if you fail."

Ever since the loss of their Haestrom facility, the Collector had seemed increasingly enraged, “previous attempts to revive the sleepers on Ilos have met with failure.  However, the Thorian samples offer a unique alternative, a potential for success.”

Chaarn didn’t know what that meant, but the idea left a cold chill in the pit of this stomach.  He shuddered, trying in vain to forget the horrid experiments done on Feros to transferred slaves from Haestrom.

Garmok sensed the misgiving in his subordinate, and sniffed.  It wouldn't do to let the riffraff forget who they answered to, "get out of there, we don't need any other mishaps."

"Yes, my lord," grunted Chaarn, as he cut the communication, preparing for his jump through the relay.

As the galaxy began to blue shift around his shuttle, Chaarn prepared himself.  Trips to the Hegemony had once brought him peace.  It was a chance to see the homeworld, and the powerful fleet that protected her.  Now, it brought only pain and shame, Shepard had seen to that.  Still, it was better than the Hell he had left behind...

**********************

Vash snarled in fury as he thrashed toe to toe against one of the Berserkers.  The juggernaut had managed to fell two of his comrades. They lay on the floor behind him, unconscious or dying.  Vash didn't know.  What he knew was that the Remnant wouldn't claim him, not this day.  He ducked under a swipe from the Berserker, charging his omnitool to capacity.  This was an attack few tech-users attempted.

The asari matron who had sent him here, Aria, could detonate a biotic attack beyond that of others...an attack which she had dubbed "Flare."

As Vash continued to sidestep the Berserker's attacks, he continued to build the charge in his omnitool, the burn started to sizzle through his armor.  Only disciplined vorcha could do this, burn themselves to the brink of death...in order to rain destruction on the enemy.

As Vash brought his fist before him, the vorcha unleashed an Overload powerful enough to blind him, a Tech Flare that consumed his senses.  Vash staggered, unable to move, certain that the Berserker would make him pay with death.  But as the vorcha's vision cleared, he noticed the Berserker lay still, as if frozen.  The chitinous armor had burned off in several places, arcs of electricity still blazing on its body.  Vash smiled his death-head's grin, as he rushed in with tooth and claw...

Liara gestured to the second Berserker, her arms in front of her, holding two full Singularity fields before her, both larger than any she had created before.  Blue blood flowed from her eyes and nose, but she heeded it no mind.  She ignored Ashley's protests, forcing the enemy before her into torpor through sheer force of will.

"Get the bastard!" she screamed.

Ashley shook her head, loading her assault rifle with incendiary rounds, as she ran towards the Berserker.  Her senses grew more acute, time slowing down as the adrenaline kicked in.  She sent round after round into the same place on the Berserker's skull.  The twin singularities fed off the impacts, drawing the armor away from the chips blown aside by the bullets.

With her final volley, Ashley charged the shot with the assistance of her omnitool, sending forth a fiery blast of Carnage into the beast's maw.  The Berserker shrieked in fury, as the biotic pools beside it turned the flames into a dancing typhoon of fire.

Ashley holstered the rifle as the thermal chamber emptied.  She engaged the servos in her omniblade.  Ashley leapt into the air, using the same protocols as a Concussive Blast, and rammed her fist through the hole made by her bullets. The attack shattered the Berserker's skull cavity, as the biotic singularities began to cave, shattering the newly made Remnant corpse in twain.

A glistening orb fell from the Berserker's spinal cord, slick with blood and pus.  Ashley took one look, and recognition dawned on her face.  She drew out a proximity mine, sticking it to the side of the globe, before kicking it away.  Quickly drawing her pistol, Ashley fired her weapon into the glowing orb until her heat sinks blared.  The orb exploded and shattered, and the Berserker's body parts finally stopped twitching.

She turned to EDI, who was still rising to her feet from a previous attack, "they’re weak at base of the neck, help Vash quick!"

The AI turned upon the first Berserker, shouting at the vorcha fighting it to stand aside.  As Vash cleared out, EDI sent a stream out of the omnitools in either arm to Snap Freeze her target, before nodding to the vorcha again.

"Take it's neck!" she yelled, her voice and form still turian.

Vash climbed onto the frozen statue's back, slashing away with his claws.  Piece by piece, the chitinous armor chipped away, until the vorcha commander saw a glimmering ball.  Grasping the orb with both hands, Vash wrenched the globe from the base of the Berserker's spine.  He leapt into the air, slamming his fist down in a Biotic Nova blast, turning the orb to powder in his fist.

EDI drew up beside him tossing several trip mines onto the Berserker's bulk, before rushing away from the ensuing blast.  Ashley collapsed as the final Berserker went down, leaning against a bulkhead for support.

Vash glanced at her nodding, before turning to tend to his comrades.  The SPECTRE nodded dully, her mind so numb after the ordeal; she barely heard the chatter over her comms.

"Lt. Commander Williams, are you there?!" said Juliana Baynham.

Ashley blinked several times, shaking her head to clear her thoughts, "what is it?"

"Liz told me that Shepard took down the Dampening Field.  The rachni and the other vorcha are routing the Remnant forces."

She nodded, sighing in reply, "so, do we know what they were doing here?"

"Well, the old Thorian caves are down there," replied Bayhnam, "and before the Remnant attacked, we were excavating what seemed to be Prothean ruins."

"Not Prothean," said Liara, "I know Prothean, none of my dig sites resembled this.  It’s...older..."

"Then what was it?" asked Juliana, “I didn’t think anything predated them.”

"That's because it isn't Prothean," said Liara, glaring at Ashley, "did those orbs seem familiar to you?"

"Of course!" reflected the SPECTRE, "this is Leviathan tech!"

"The Leviathans vanished into Dark Space at the end of the Reaper War," offered EDI, "it couldn't be them."

Indeed, the ancient race had been present when the Reaper Cycle had started, so many eons ago.  They had been the first race to fall to the original Reaper...Harbinger.  Shepard’s discovery of living Leviathans had been a startling revelation.  The last of that ancient race had left, after the Reaper War, to claim the void beyond Dark Space...

The Council had been just as happy to see the Leviathans go.  With the galaxy in a state of flux, nobody could have accounted for such far-reaching ramifications, had the Leviathans chosen to remain.

"Well," said Ashley, "it seems like someone's familiar with the tech, and using it to play God."

Liara shook her head, groaning, "something tells me this isn't going to get any easier."

"Why would it?" griped Ashley, "contact Shepard, tell him we're on our way..."


	30. Another Beautiful Firefight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 30

The business sector of Omega consisted of glass and steel office buildings.  Most of these were fronts for gangs, or armories for security outfits.  The streets were still as dark and grimy as the rest of Omega.  Bright lights shone down from the hoverlanes, making the dirt more shiny.  That was about as "corporate" as Omega got...dull grays and browns overcast by neon blues, reds, and everything in between.

Currently, three lone figures were taking shelter in the entrance to one such office building.  The front had been blown inwards from an explosion, mortar strewn across the front, bits of rebar sticking out of the walls and the ground.

Major Kirrahe, of the salarian STG, was currently taking refuge behind a rather sturdy series of desks, and walls that had been reduced to chest high.  He shook his head, clearing the grit and mist from his eyes.  Kirrahe pondered how an asteroid colony could get mist, of all things.  Some part of him quoted humidity charts and the influence of large-scale industry.

The salarian promptly told that currently useless part of his mind to shut the hell up, as he took aim down the sights of his sniper rifle.  He cloaked, taking his time as he lined up his shot into one of the buildings overlooking his current position.  The salarian squeezed the trigger, and was rewarded with a vision of fine red spray as he glared down his scope.

Kirrahe had no time to revel in his accomplishment, as he cursed, taking cover once more.  The space he had been occupying was immediately peppered with rounds from the other snipers above.

He turned to the Galaxy's last living Prothean, shaking his head, "it's getting harder to draw a line on them!"

Javik shouted in rage, as he emptied another clip into an approaching battalion of black-armored salarians.  The Prothean's shields took the brunt of return fire, emitting a blue hue, but soon he too was forced to take cover.

"Remind me why I trust you, and not simply kill all salarians!" said Javik.

Kirrahe glanced back dispassionately, asserting that the Prothean wasn't that stupid...though Kirrahe was certainly willing (and able) to put the Ancient One out of everyone's misery.

Javik laughed, showing teeth, before rising again, hurling forth biotics to ravage the approaching attackers.  The wiry assailants took cover behind their hovercars.

Behind the two soldiers, another salarian shook his head sourly into his omnitool, controlling a collection of miniature turrets and drones littered about the exit.

"Just be grateful they have no heavy ordnance!" said Padok Wiks, formerly the lead scientist of the elite salarian STG.

The other two had come to find the salarian scientist, who had gone into hiding soon after the fallout of the Reaper War.  'Personal leave,' they had called it in the paperwork.  Kirrahe knew better; the scientist was being retired.  Salarians didn't live long enough to go on such vacations.  And in this brave new universe, politics were changing.  The old ways wouldn't work anymore, and such a sidelining could lead to questions.

Padok Wiks had been no fool.  Quite often, such a removal from the galactic equation led superiors in the STG to question loyalties.  So he'd reached out to the only other person he trusted.  Kirrahe had brought a friend, one more pertinent to the problems at hand…

And a Prothean, no less!  STG research into Prothean genetics hadn't really gotten anywhere, but it concerned Wiks that it had been on the table at all...too many variables...and not enough transparency.

A series of shouts from the enemy brought the scientist’s concerns to the problem at hand, as a shuttle flew above the battlefield, reigning fire down upon the embankments.

Kirrahe took cover behind his wall, "you were saying something about heavy ordnance?!"

As the side of the shuttle opened, a petite figure could be seen manning the turret.

Javik laughed, as he saw the weapon begin to open fire on their assailants, "TALI!"

Another figure jumped from the other side of the shuttle, dropping down, a shield bubble covering him from all sides as he landed.

Kirrahe saw a geth he'd never seen before, standing in front of him.  The lanky AI drew a large Black Widow Anti-Material rifle from his back, as he began to hip fire it into the buildings beyond.  His thermal optics allowed him to pick out the snipers in the buildings, as his attack processes compensated for the large sniper rifle's considerable bulk.

From her vantage at the flight sticks of the shuttle, Kasumi tapped on her intercom, "we're wrapping up here Garrus, are you done?"

******************

In a reinforced outlook, overseeing the mayhem below, Elana Pytar stood surrounded by the bodies of several black armored salarians.  She grunted, as she tightened the garrote wire around the last assailant's neck.  Elana heard a grunt from behind her, turning in time to see one of those she'd assumed dead rising to his feet, drawing a pistol.

"Get down," came a voice over her intercom.

Elana fell to the floor, as she wrenched the first salarian's neck.  In the space where she had been, a high velocity round tore through the air, embedding itself into the skull of the second salarian.  The pistol fell nervelessly from the dead operative's hand.

Pytar rolled off the body of her last kill, clenching her fists to stop the shaking.

"Thanks for the save," she whispered.

From his perch across the way from her, Garrus gestured a thumbs up, "nice work ghosting the room...I couldn't have done better myself."

Elana smirked, "no, I suppose not."

"Well, we each have our own skills."

Vakerian shook his head, as he took aim at the fight below, enunciating his point by picking off several stragglers with his rifle.

"Wish we could have left a few alive for questioning," said Pytar.

Garrus shook his head, "STG is hard core, this lot was disavowed the moment they hit Omega...we wouldn't get anything out of them."

"Then who sent them?"

The SPECTRE sighed, "let's get down there and find out..."

********************

As Kirrahe saw the figures from past exploits come to his rescue, the salarian couldn't help but feel a resounding note of nostalgia.  A grin came to his face, as he waved his thanks to the turian he'd first met nearly five years ago.

Garrus nodded to Kirrahe, "glad you survived, sorry the save took so long."

The salarian shook his head, gripping Vakerian's hand, "not at all Major...not at all."

The turian looked at the Prothean, "didn't know you were along for the ride, Javik."

He shrugged, answering, "the salarian doctor says this STG is doing research into my people, as well as the Yagh and others...I cannot let this stand unanswered..."

Garrus sighed, turning to Padok Wiks, "good to see you again, doctor."

The salarian gestured, "yes yes...appreciate the assistance...can we leave before I get killed?"

"Do we know who sent them?" exclaimed Tali, "rogue STG?  I can't beleive the Council hasn't stepped in!"

"No proof, not yet," explained Wiks, "not without me, and it will take time to gather the evidence..."

"Yes, no definite names yet," said Kirrahe, "we need to call out individuals from the Dalatrassy...or we could have another war on our hands..."

"Perfect," groaned Garrus, "well, let's get to the Dover then."

"No," replied Kirrahe, "two STG on your ship will lead to suspicions...our only saving grace is that they do not yet suspect the doctor."

"But they suspect you?"

The salarian pondered a moment.  Perhaps, perhaps not.  He was part of the STG, a collection of some of the smartest minds in the galaxy, and some of the most tenacious battle forces as well.  Nothing was certain, especially if the divisions within the Dalatrassy were splitting loyalties within the salarian military.

"I'll wait for Shepard, as agreed," he said, "keep Doctor Wiks safe..."

"I'll stay as well," added Javik, "there are answers yet to be found on this rock."

Garrus couldn't shake this uncomfortable feeling.  He wasn't superstitious by nature, but the whole matter left him ill-at-ease.  Still, he had a full crew, whereas Shepard would need all the help he could get.

"The Normandy's headed into batarian space," said the SPECTRE, "be careful out there..."

"You as well, Major Vakerian," sighed Kirrahe, "it seems like my people are quietly at civil war with themselves."

"Yes," agreed Padok Wiks, "distressing..."

Garrus shook his head, wishing he could stay to help Shepard.  However, the Thessian border skirmishes had gotten worse.  Miranda had sent the message straight to his omnitool.  The monastary of the Ardat Yakshi was in danger again.  The Athena Nebula was home to some of the most peaceful races in the galaxy.  After the Reaper War, Garrus had figured the Traverse would look forward to the ensuing peace.

But someone was stirring up the powder keg.  Hell, the asari and even the hanar were at each other’s throats, while the elcor fared little better.  And what was the cause of it all?  Vorcha raiders, who were fleeing from the Remnant...a supposedly mindless force, just some garbage to be cleaned up.  

Garrus considered Kirrahe's words.  Someone was having a laugh, at the expense of every life in the galaxy.  There was nothing civil about this war.

"A lot of that going around, Major Kirrahe, which is why they need us..."


	31. Goodbye Feros

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 31

In the heart of the human settlement on Feros, over half a dozen somber figures gathered about a conference table.  Shepard sighed, leaning back in his chair, idly fingering the data stick in his hand.  This was all that was left of the intrepid soul that was Terric, a batarian that had saved Shepard’s life, and perhaps the life of everyone in this colony.

"What is in that thing?" asked Shiala.

"Whatever it was," mused Shepard, "Terric felt it worth dying for."

Liara shook her head, "from my initial readings, it seems to be a chronicle of the hostilities between Clan Verrad and Clan Akesh."

Shepard nodded, "set against the timeline of various Remnant attacks, culminating in some meeting on Omega."

Vash nodded, "I was sent by Aria...because batarian's fighting each other."

Ashley arched an eyebrow, "so T'Loak has a vested interest in this?"

Shepard glanced at Liara, who shrugged.

"Her intelligence rivals even the Shadow Broker, on occasion," said Liara, no discernible twitch in her face, though Shepard could read the smirk in her movements.

"But why Feros?" demanded Lizbeth.

"It has to be the Thorian," said EDI, her turian guise now gone.

Vash grinned at her.  After their battle had concluded, Ashley had feared the revelation would tarnish the peace with their newfound allies.  However, the vorcha had merely laughed, praising "The Matron's" cunning, likening it to Aria's.  Ashley didn't know whether a comparison to the Pirate Queen of Omega warranted admiration or anger, but she let it pass.  Surviving being shot down by Remnant while on a rescue mission had earned him some good will.

"That's the only logical conclusion," finished Liara.

"But all research into the Thorian yielded nothing," countered Shiala, "just ask ExoGeni."

"Let's ask Terric," said Shepard, playing a particular file from the data stick on the table's digital viewer.

Before them, a projected hologram of Terric appeared, his face stoic.  The footage included this very room in the background; he must have shot this prior to the mission.

'He expected to die,' thought Shepard, remorse clawing at him.

"To my new...friends," started Terric's image, "if you are seeing this, doubtlessly I've perished."

The batarian paused for a moment, "it seems odd to eulogize oneself, but working with Intelligence demands all sorts of strange allowances."

The group remained silent as Terric succinctly laid out the political fallout wracking the batarian Hegemony…

General Garmok, the head of the zealous Clan Akesh, led the old warhawks.  Against them stood Terric’s own Clan Verrad, led by General Carlan.  These two houses ruled the largest attack fleets in the Hegemony.  Somehow, Clan Akesh had managed to edge out the best technology, and more capable forces.

"They are pushing our backs to the wall, but we have the sympathy of the people," said Terric, "between the two stands Admiral Balak.  Due to the politics of our fleets, he is unable to side with Verrad, who are seen as cow-towing to the Alliance."

"In light of my previous history with Balak," grunted Shepard, "that makes sense."

"Conversely," said Terric, as if allowing for the pause, "he knows it a fool's game to wage war, when all are rebuilding."

Terric shook his head, "Garmok sees it as opportunity, but more so, it is because of the War...the War on Humanity..."

Everyone in the room sat in attention, glancing at Shepard.  The man was silent, as if knowing what was to come.

"You've no doubt guessed Shepard," continued Terric, "why it had to be you that was sent...Clan Verrad's ambassador requested it.  However, we were stopped at every turn by Akesh."

Now schematics appeared on the screen, displaying new weapons, armaments, and troop figures.

"I was tasked with finding where their funding was coming from, and even now, all I know is circumstantial," spat Terric, grinding his teeth, "but I find it no happenstance that my ship was brought down when I neared Feros."

The batarian grinned, "nor do I find our meeting mere chance...but fortune...you need to get this data to Omega, where Admiral Verrad’s daughter awaits.  By now, Lady Ambassador Ashrai will have asked Aria to send a security detail."

Vash grunted in reply, "like I said..."

"But I have no way of knowing what bargains will be made, or kept," explained Terric, "I know you were planning on heading to the Hegemony Shepard, but please...meet my Clan at Omega first...they'll need you...and have much to tell you as well..."

Shepard saw himself and his crewmates in the far background in the holovid.  The recording was nearing its end.

Terric turned back to the monitor, and smiled tersely, "I'm regret being unable to assist you, but I do NOT regret leaving this to you...for I know my Clan is in safe hands..."

The batarian sighed deeply, closing his eyes, "good luck..."

The recording ended, leaving the figures gathered around the table in silence.  Shepard looked around the chamber, setting his sights on the vorcha commander.

"I suppose you'll want safe passage back to Omega?"

Vash nodded, "what you want in payment?"

The SPECTRE grinned, appreciating the gesture, "well, Feros could use some help, and Aria has resources to spare.  In recompense, I won't confiscate the technical specs and data you doubtlessly already gathered for her."

The vorcha leaned back in his chair, staring aghast at Shepard.  Of course, with eyes like that, vorcha always looked either angry or surprised.  Strangely enough, it made for a rather effective poker face.  Ashley heard a coughing noise emit from Vash's throat, realizing the vorcha was laughing again.

He turned to her nodding, "now we know who taught Matron Ash-lee."

Williams tipped her head at the vorcha, letting slip a slight grin.

Vash turned back to Shepard, and bowed his head, "we agree..."

"I'm going too," said Shiala, "it's time I paid you back."

Lizbeth and Shepard both turned to her in protest, as she raised her hands.

"Look," she explained, "this isn't just me, Queen Noveria wants me to go as well."

Shepard shook his head, " Shiala, I can't bring along a civilian.  The Terminus systems aren't safe."

"Listen Shepard," replied Shiala, "before I became a rachni Ambassador, I was a liaison for the Thorian.  Before THAT, I was a Commando in Spec Ops...I'll be fine..."

In just those words, Shiala had circumvented any avenue Shepard could have had against bringing her aboard.  If Shiala was indeed on orders by the rachni Queen to join his crew, it was his diplomatic duty to grant safe passage.  Bringing up the other points alluded to both her resilience and skill in the field.

Shepard sniffed, recognizing the master stroke in her negotiations, "we don't pull punches, do we?"

Shiala beamed at Shepard, "well, Queen Noveria has Lizbeth on hand.  Besides, she's worried you'll be out of contact if the Remnant have another Dampening Field, and she wants me to keep you safe."

Shepard raised his hands, "fine, it's not like we can't use the help anyway."

"Speaking of which," he continued, turning to Liara, "any intel on the weapon we saw?"

The blue asari pursed her lips, bringing up another schematic, "I had a quick look.  I still can't believe the weapon did what you say it did."

Ashley looked at Liara quizzically.

Shepard rested his chin on his hands, "they managed to harness the Field into a canon...the feedback was enough that Terric's amps fried and blew apart inside his own body."

The room went silent again, as those at the table glanced at one another uncertainly.

"I...didn't know he was a biotic," said EDI.

"Neither did we," said Shepard, "he must have been fighting the pain and relying on tech amps since the moment we woke him...crazy bastard."

"That's not the worst part," said Liara, after a pregnant silence.

He turned to her, disbelief clear on his face.

She continued, "from these schematics, it is apparent that the Dampening Field relied on Dark Energy."

Shepard blinked, "I don't get the significance, plenty of technology relies on Eezo."

EDI nodded, "yes, by old doctrines, Element Zero is a nearly limitless energy source that defies formerly traditional physics.  Such forces could easily supply power to the Dampening Field, given enough amounts."

"Yes," said Liara, her face going pale, "but the problem here is that the weapon didn't feed off Eezo...it burned it."

Once again, silence reigned throughout the room.  Shepard brought his hand up to his face, leaning back and stretching his neck to hide the gesture.  The first time anyone had "destroyed" Eezo in discernible amounts, the Bahak Relay had exploded, claiming the lives of an entire solar system.  The second time, it had been the Crucible firing a blast that devoured the galaxy.

"Eezo is pure entropy," said Liara, "these are uncharted waters..."

"Let me get this straight," demanded Ashley, "Eezo reacts so violently when accelerated, it allows FTL.  Hell, Bahak was vaporized from a relay being destroyed."

Liara nodded.

"And that's just acceleration," continued Shepard, "you're talking about something that burns it...so where does all that energy go?"

"For all we know, it could manifest a red shift," offered Shiala.

Whenever ships traveled at FTL, the wormhole always appeared blue, correlating to the expansion of the universe.  However, none had ever seen a “red shift.”

Shepard shook his head, trying to understand, “what would reversing FTL even mean in a weapon?”

"In enough amounts,” posited Shiala, “a red shift could effectively implode a solar system."

"Or, at minimum, destroy a star," said Liara, "Thessia’s archives mentioned such fears from when the asari first found the relays."

Something about that last statement caught in Shepard's mind...it seemed a familiar occurrence.  The ravages of mass effect fields destroying worlds, while forging a new future in space.  He'd seen it on Bahak, and past the Far Rim, but something didn't sit well with Shepard, like a familiar sound that he couldn't place.

"In any case," Liara shook her head, "I am passing along my findings to a research team, as well as to Orthos, perhaps we can create an effective countermeasure."

“Weapons that actually burn eezo?” asked Ashley, "Where does this leave us?"

"Nowhere good," announced Shepard, rising to his feet.

He turned to his crew, nodding to Shiala and Vash, "in light of recent circumstance, I welcome you both to the Normandy."

The vorcha and the asari nodded back to him, as they rose to their feet as well.  Shepard shook hands with Lizbeth Baynham, promising aid as soon as he could manage.  She nodded, thanking him again.  Once more, Shepard had pulled them out of Hell.  But she knew the SPECTRE had more important things to focus on now.

As always, the Galaxy called.

"Let's get to Omega," announced Shepard, "and find some damn answers..."

 

Author’s Notes:

Well guys, we are just past the halfway mark with this chapter. As of this post, I am done writing all 60 chapters!  Actually, I was done well before this post.  However, I am still editing, so there is ample time for me to make adjustments.  Indeed, I have been doing so with each batch of uploads.

At any rate, thanks to everyone for reading!  Please leave some feedback, as it helps encourage me.  I also welcome any suggestions, as I am still tweaking the story a bit.  If nothing else, it will help inform my next project.  Anyways, these “author’s notes” are few and far between, simply due to the nature of my posts.  Still, I appreciate the support, and hope all of you enjoy reading the story as much as I enjoyed writing it (well, for the most part anyway)!


	32. Battlescars and Betrayal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 32

Shepard had finally escaped the damn forest.  He shook his head, taking stock of his surroundings.  Brushed metal bulkheads now dominated the landscape, as if he were in the bowels of a giant ship...the Collector Base.  Putrid growths festered all along the walls and floor.  Dead bodies were littered about decomposing, feeding the ancient machine.  Shepard decided he’d preferred the forest after all.

A loud blaring shook him to his core.  The giant human proto-Reaper was before him, an unholy mass of metal and flesh.  Voices cried out from beside him, and Shepard turned to see Jack beside him. She was transfixed with horror.  A shadow fell over them, and the Reaper rammed a fist into the ground.  The floor gave way, sending Shepard and Jack tumbling end over end.

Shepard righted himself, leaping for Jack, grasping her hand as they fell.  He braced himself against the edge of the drop.  The flames below crackled with unholy rage as if angered by the denial of tribute.

‘Don’t let me go,’ pleaded Jack.

He was about to speak, when the buzz of a Seeker swarm drowned out his thoughts, hundreds of glimmering insects darting through the air, biting into his flesh.  Blood flowed from his wound.  He followed the trail, realizing it was leaking down unto Jack.  Shepard’s grip faltered.  He shook his head, it wasn’t supposed to be this way.

Before he could draw breath, Jack slipped from his grasp, carried away by another Seeker swarm, her screams drowning into the hissing and buzzing of the Collector horde.  The world collapsed around Shepard, as he fell into the darkness below, the buzzing of the Seekers droning in his ears as they ripped him apart…

... ... ...

Shepard woke in a cold sweat, his body awash in a blue hue, the biotic amps in his arms firing sporadically.  His skin felt cold, prickly, as he shuddered, trying to remember where he was.  A warm pair of arms cradled him, rocking slightly.  He clung to the warmth, unable to open his eyes, as his face was nuzzled in softness.

"Goddess," whispered Liara, caressing his hair as she hugged him tightly to her breast, "your skin is so pale..."

Her voice brought him back to reality, as Shepard's vision began to clear.  He sat up, staring into the asari's piercing blue eyes, and cradled her face in his hands.  Shepard sighed, grasping Liara in his arms, taking note that they were naked, in his bed, aboard the Normandy…

They remained silent, not wanting to break the moment.  The SPECTRE felt at peace for the first time in ages.  For the briefest of instances, the past was nothing but a fading memory.  A chime on his monitor broke the reverie.  Shepard breathed deeply, getting his feet out of the bed.

"Audio only," he ordered the reciever, "what is it Joker?"

Liara drew up beside him, silently nuzzling against his back, stroking the muscles along his shoulders.  He felt her easing the tension away, and something of the stress must have made it through the intercom.

"Uh...sorry for the wakeup call boss," said Joker, "there's...something going on in the cargo bay..."

"What is it?"

"Jack's...having a disagreement with Ashley."

Liara groaned, "Goddess...not now..."

Shepard shook his head, "on my way...any idea what this is about?"

"Couldn't say Captain," replied the pilot, "although if I were Jack, I wouldn't feel comfy with a bipolar SPECTRE who'd pulled a gun on you."

"Joker..."

"Yeah yeah," said Joker, almost putting in his tone the eye roll he was inevitably doing, "hey, take pictures eh?  You cheated me the last time this happened."

He was referring to the last spat Jack had engaged in with Miranda, back when they'd been working with Cerberus.  Trust Joker to keep a one-track mind, this many years later.

He smirked, "no promises."

As Shepard began to don his clothes, he thought it prudent to prime his omnitool as well.

"If I have to separate those two..."

"Good call," said Liara, as she slipped into her own clothes, flaring her biotics in a short wake-up session.

Shepard blinked several times, trying to distract himself from the vision of the asari's clothing drawing taut against her bare skin.

"Er...anything I should know?" he said, after a series of coughs.

Half dressed, Liara stared at him, at a loss for words.  The asari bit her lip, looking off to the side.

"It's...it's not...my place to say..."

He sighed, nodding slightly.  Nothing good would come of this.

"Alright...let's get down there..."

******************************

Ashley Williams had been presenting her report to the Council.  She'd had to tell them about the experiments on Feros, they needed to know, as well as what Shepard's next course of action had been.

Although most of the Council trusted Shepard, she had to protest the salarian’s concerns with him.  Upon questioning, Ashley had been forced to admit certain concerns for the Captain.

She'd had to defend his right to continue leading the operation.

"I swear," remarked Sparatus, "you seem to have a misplaced distrust of Shepard.  I don't know why."

Aethyta agreed, "I know we need to watch out, but Shepard's not the kind to stab us in the back."

"Be that as it may," stated the salarian, Esheel, "if Shepard endangers the mission, take over.  Take him out if you suspect indoctrination."

Unfortunately, it was at this damnable moment that Jack had entered the room, looking for words with the Lt. Commander.  The two woman stared at each other in silence for what seemed like ages.

"Williams?" asked the female Councilor.

"I'll call you back," said Ashley breathlessly, before cutting the feed.

Jack shook her head, "oh...you hateful little fuck...you want his job too?  Can't stand being second?"

Ashley shook her head, "it isn't like-"

Jack would hear no more, rushing at Ashley, "I WILL SMEAR THE WALL WITH YOU, BITCH!"

Ashley ducked the biotic charge, catching Jack in the chest with a concussive punch, flinging her through the hallway.  The biotic's body flew through the window outside.  Jack gestured with her hand, pulling Williams with a biotic Lift, and the SPECTRE slammed against her in midair.  Jack flung her knee into the other woman’s gut, driving the air from her as they plummeted to the cargo bay below…

****************

Shepard stood at the entrance to the cargo bay.  Serviceman Donnely was there, holding his assault rifle lightly.

"Where's Sergeant Gardner?" asked the SPECTRE, "I figured he'd be running security detail."

Donnely nodded, "he's securing the vorcha.  They saw the fight and started taking bets...it was getting rowdy."

Shepard grunted, "how's it look?"

The engineer shook his head, "we closed the blast doors and windows, didn't know what kind of damage we were looking at."

Shepard nodded, "make sure I have absolute privacy..."

Donnely saluted, as Shepard and Liara walked through, the doors sealing shut behind them...

***************

The cargo bay looked like a war zone.  Two women stood at the epicenter of the chaos.  One was adorned in blue armor, the other was wearing combat leathers, studs in her black jacket.  Both were in tatters.

Jack thrust her hands before her, shooting out a biotic Shockwave with a scream.  Ashley Williams dodged to the side, as she was flung against the wall from the reverberations of the blast.  She gestured with her arm, as the omnitool within shot forth a Concussive Blast, smashing the biotic in the chest.

Jack doubled over in pain, blood flying from her mouth as she was turned around by the impact.  She fell to her knees, shaking her head.  Ashley got to her feet, her legs wobbling as she staggered forwards.

"Had...enough?!" croaked Williams.

Jack spat, punching the ground as she forced herself up, "I'm going to fillet you like a fucking steak..."

Suddenly, the two battling women were stunned, as an electric surge from a light Overload shocked both of them.  A series of biotic pushes slammed them against opposite walls, though not roughly enough to cause real damage.  Shepard stepped into the gap between them, staring at each of them in turn.

He held out both arms, biotic and tech amps surging colors through his body, lending to the tableau of quiet anger.  Shepard glanced at Jack first, as the woman caught her breath, looking slowly up at him.

She shook her head, "Crichton?"

The SPECTRE nodded, throwing her a bottle of water, "I can fight my own battles Jack."

Jack's eyebrow twitched in frustration, as she poured the water down her face before drinking some.  She said nothing.

"I think she'd like to tell you," offered Liara, pursing her lips, "that you shouldn't have to, not alone certainly."

Shepard nodded once more, "sorry Jack."

Jack grunted, glaring daggers at the soldier she'd just been fighting with.  Shepard sighed, turning to Ash, as he threw her a bottle as well.  He gestured to them, as the two women drew close.  He glanced from one to the other, though neither would look him in the eyes.

"That's enough," he grimaced, "we lose focus, people die.  I'd rather you get the aggression out here, but you've got to come clean.  What's going on?!"

Jack thumbed over at Ashley, "ask the Council lapdog there..."

Williams looked like she wanted to reply, but she remained silent, "I'm...sorry skipper, it's nothing."

"It doesn't look like nothing," he stated, noticing Jack's split lip, and the bruise welling up on Ashey's cheek.

Williams looked up again, the chills rising up her spine as she looked Shepard in the face.  He crossed his arms, offering her one more chance to come clean, but she couldn't.  All throughout her career, she'd only wanted to do the right thing.  But when it mattered most...she'd made the wrong choices.  It had gotten her unit killed on Eden Prime.  It had nearly cost Shepard his life, and his soul, on more than one occassion.

Ashley stammered, unable to speak, and Shepard nodded, closing his eyes.

"I already knew Ash," he said, "that the Council sent you here...to keep an eye on me..."

The three women gasped almost in unison.

"You...knew...?"

Shepard didn't know who'd said that, but the surprise annoyed him, his eyebrow twitching.

He cocked his head to the side, "What's the point of having two SPECTREs on one mission, unless it's an emergency?  A diplomatic op to assess something doesn't qualify, at least until I call for backup."

Ashley nodded, almost sighing in relief.  Though she felt horrible, at least Shepard knew.  However, the knowing look in Jack's eyes told a different story.

Shepard gestured to himself, "they wanted to know if I was still capable, right?"

Williams gasped, unable to understand, "what?"

" I know...post war syndrome...I get it," Shepard continued, as if he hadn't heard, "you want to know the truth?  See if I snapped?"

Ashley bonelessly nodded, feeling as if she were digging her own grave.

Shepard turned around, "when I close my eyes, I'm still reliving that damn war...I'm still fighting on Elysium, still shooting husks, still burning with my family on Mindoir."

He turned, seeing the visions in his mind even now.  The dreams were actually worse than what he'd faced in life.  It was something he hadn't considered possible.  Shepard continued to rant, as if baring his soul.

He pointed at Liara, "I see her...dead."

He pointed at Jack, "I see her...dead..."

He pointed at Ashley, "I see you...dead..."

He gestured to the rest of the Normandy, "I see all this...burning..."

Not a day went by that he didn't think of the losses, of the thousands... millions... trillions that he had laid to waste.  Terric had died, hell, an entire system of batarians had died, because of HIM.  Entire civilizations had been sacrificed because of him...

“Because I wasn't fast enough, or strong enough, or smart enough,” he continued, “because I wasn't ruthless enough...kind enough....”

Ashley shook her head, her eyes widening, "you still see them?  You still hear voices from that damn war?"

She seemed to be afraid of someting.  Shepard shook his head, unable to understand her.  So many dead had been left in his wake.  Surely she must feel the burden as well.

"You want to know the truth Ash?!  I killed them all...as surely as I killed Anderson, or Legion...Thane...Mordin..."

Shepard's face fell, as he closed his eyes, "as surely as I killed...Kaidan...so many years ago...left him on that burning rock..."

Williams looked up at him, her eyes blurry and unfocused.

"Not a day goes by Ash...that I don't hear their voices.”

The first Human SPECTRE shook his head.  Surely, Ashley should have understood.  She'd lost her entire command once, as had he.  They owed it to their men to continue the fight...to live for their sakes...to make sure the sacrifice wasn't wasted...

"Now you tell me...if I still have what it takes to get the job done, because this is all I know..."

Ashley felt a heavy weight in her throat, as she struggled to hold back tears.  She glanced at Jack, shaking her head.  For her part, Jack nodded somberly, her eyes drifting as if lost, as if telling Williams that this was how it was.

‘How could I have known him for so long,’ thought Ashley, ‘and still known so little about what makes him work?’

Shepard saw the look in their faces.  He glanced from Ash, to Jack, to Liara, and finally back to Ashley again.  The look in his face broke her heart, as if he were a wayward soul...a ghost with no home.

It was with a leaden voice that Liara spoke up, "Crichton…they didn't send her to evaluate your performance..."

He glanced back at Liara quizzically, before turning back to Ashley again.

Williams replied, her voice cracking, each syllable a nail on her coffin, "they wanted to be sure...you weren't...Indoctrinated..."

She couldn't look at Shepard's bewildered face.  This last betrayal hurt her, enough to scar her soul.  He'd given everything to the galaxy, and all he'd gotten in return was distrust.  Even still, he may have dealt with it, but for the distrust visited upon him...by his friend.

"They didn't send her to replace you," whispered Jack, with a wavering voice, "they sent her to...kill you, if..."

Ashley shook her head, "I figured it was pointless, and Councilor Aethyta agreed, so did Sparatus."

But Shepard had been acting differently, more and more every day.  It seemed as if he couldn't let the Reaper War go...always looking for something to go wrong... always finding another battle to be fought.  Ashley shook her head, wars left scars, all soldiers knew that.

"This is different," Ashley said, forcing resolve back into her voice, "we don't know Reaper tech.  Maybe Indoctrination could still occur without them around..."

With Shepard, the eyes of the Galaxy bore witness; he could leave no room for doubt.  They had to be sure.  Williams shook her head, glancing off to the side again.  It wasn't supposed to be this way.

Shepard blinked several times, stepping back haltingly, as he finally processed the words they had uttered.  His eyes darted to and fro, unable to focus.

"You...you...thought," he sounded like a broken recording.

Williams closed her eyes, hoping Shepard would understand, "better me than someone else."

He stopped, before taking a deep breath, "you asked me if I was a husk back on Mars.  Hah...I suppose that makes sense."

Ashley snapped her head back up, noticing the subtle shift in Shepard's voice, a deep growl that unsettled her.

Shepard reached out, not looking away from Ashley, "Jack...your knife...please..."

Jack froze, her skin growing cold at his expression.

He turned, smiling at her with far too much warmth for such a request, "it's alright...your knife please..."

Her fingers remained motionless, as Shepard reached down her thigh, pulling a blade from her boot holster.

Shepard turned back to Ashley, gesturing with the knife, "I should have seen it...it makes sense after all.  I'm more machine now, after all, than man."

He shook his head, "I mean, who's to say I'm me?  At least the Geth have thoughts to call their own, perhaps even souls.  I may be like that clone we killed back on the Citadel..."

Ashley was left speechless by the memories, wishing they would fade.

"Just another copy...pretending he's the real thing..."

He took the knife to his left arm, lacerating it, and inspected the flowing blood.

"Huh," he commented, as if not feeling the cuts, "still red, not blue, gray, or black...I guess I'm not a husk yet..."

Shepard drew close to Ashley, who visibly fliched, trying to back away.  He wouldn't let her move, placing the knife in her hand, hilt first.

He placed the tip of the blade against his exposed chest, "so...since you seem to hate me so much....why not put me out of your misery?"

Williams remained speechless, stammering again.  Out the corner of her eyes, she noticed Liara and Jack edging closer slowly, shocked concern on their faces.

"-the Hell are you doing?!" she all but screamed.

Shepard laughed, "it's okay, if I'm real, you'd be doing me a favor...and if I'm a traitor...you get to be a hero..."

He drew his gun, placing it against Ashley's temple, "here...I'll make it easier on you...you put that knife through my heart...or I blow your damn head off..."

She couldn't beleive this was happening...what was happening...?!

"I'll count to three...it's alright..."

"ONE"

This was insane...she couldn't do this...HE couldn't do this...

"You're my friend Ash...you believe me, right?"

"TWO"

Ashley closed her eyes, was he actually Indoctrinated?  No, it was enough, she wasn't going to betray him again, if she died, maybe-

"You know, I think I finally understand Terric...honored enemies ARE more predictable..."

"THREE"

The gun clicked, Shepard had never disengaged the safety.  Ashley let the blade drop nervelessly from her fingers.  All she had presence of mind to do was slap Shepard, before collapsing on the floor, sobbing.

Shepard glanced down, his voice distant, "looks like we both lose Ash...you're right though...you can't be my XO, we need trust for that."

He turned, catching sight of the look on Liara and Jack's faces, and nodded, breathing deeply.

He drew them up in a tight embrace, "I'm sorry..."

"You try a stunt like that again," whispered Jack, "I'll fucking kill you myself..."

Shepard chuckled darkly, "I daresay you will..."

He kissed Liara on the forehead, before disenagaging and turning back to Ashley, "you're staying on board, by the way..."

Williams looked up at him, disbelieving her ears.  After all this, he was still willing to work with her?

"I'm tired Ash, and I don't care anymore," he shrugged, "but I'll need backup on Omega.  I can still use a steady gun hand."

Shepard failed to mention that the added protection for Liara and Jack eased his mind.  They were capable, of course.  He held no doubts; but he wouldn't lose anyone simply because they'd been shorthanded.  Shepard walked over to the equipment locker.  He ignored the burning cuts on his arm, sealing the wound with medigel and bandages, before donning his armor.  It was early yet, but Shepard didn't mind.  It gave his shaking hands something to do.

"Galaxy won't save itself," he glanced at the monitor nearby, "we hit the docks soon... "

After all, there was no rest for the wicked...

“Suit up,” said Shepard, “I’ll be in my cabin…”

*****************************

Shepard groaned, easing back into the chair in his office.  He saw a light flashing on the holovid display, noting a missed message.  The SPECTRE noted the contact, then proceeded to secure the line before making the return connection.

Miranda Lawson quickly answered, “good to see you Shepard, we’ve made some headway into those records you’ve sent us.”

He nodded, “when can you send me the full report?”

“Making headway into the weapons schematics, less so the infrastructure of our enemies.”

“Pass what you’ve got to Liara,” offered Shepard, “she has some good tech at cracking data.”

“Actually, the encryption is being handled just fine by Tali,” Miranda shrugged, “the chokepoint is getting Kasumi to translate the garbage codes.”

“Kasumi?” asked Shepard.

“Don’t ask,” replied Lawson, “apparently, you and her retrieved some artifact, and something in it just allows her to read this particular type of encryption.”

Shepard nodded, remembering the heist on the crime mogul, Donovan Hock.  It had just been him and Kasumi, retrieving the sensitive data contained within a dead man’s cyberbrain.

“That means the tech is likely Reaper, or whatever former Alliance black ops found out about them, so be careful.”

“Always am,” she said, “but thanks for the concern.”

“Any time.”

“You seem…off, Shepard, is something wrong?”

Shepard said nothing, subconsciously looking at his hand, “why do you ask?”

She’d been speaking with Shepard for months, and had picked up on one of the few tells in his physical demeanor, “whenever you clench your hand like that, you’re brooding.”

He sniffed, “I don’t brood.”

“Then you’re a damn fool,” she countered, “especially considering all you’ve been through.  You still wonder about Lazarus, don’t you?”

Shepard lowered his arm, “sorry, don’t worry about it.”

“Crichton,” reasoned Miranda, “I do excellent work, and I would be the expert here.  Trust me, you are still you.”

“I don’t mean to come across as ungrateful, just tired of defending my sanity…to myself as well as my doubters.”

Lawson drew pensive, as she considered her next words, “Shepard, you never need to apologize to me.  We’ve both been through too much, and Jack would attempt murder if she thought I was guilting you.”

Shepard laughed, considering the ruckus he’d just weathered down in the shuttle bay, “you’ve no idea.”

Miranda couldn’t understand the source of his humor, but nodded, “you are the most singular man I’ve ever known.  Don’t be foolish, and don’t borrow trouble.”

She smiled as she added a small jab at him, “though it might be nice if Liara would do the same.  You should have seen what she added to Orthos’ last shipment of weapons.”

The SPECTRE laughed, “I heard, apparently the padding for the crates were replaced with pink swimsuits.”

Between the two of them, Miranda and Liara ran the most powerful intel networks in the galaxy.  Seeing Orthos and the Shadow Broker engaged in a war of practical jokes was equal parts amusing and frightening.

“Hardly the behavior of professionals.”

Miranda shrugged, “I don’t know, it’s more of a personal pride thing.”

“So, what will your retaliation consist of?”

She grinned from ear to ear, “now now, I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.”

Shepard couldn’t help but feel better.  He finally understood why his former crew always called.  Whether it was Garrus, Tali, or Miranda.  They trusted each other as leaders and people.  They were more than crew; they were family.  Some part of him had always known that, but now, he could FEEL it as well.  Neither Shepard, nor Miranda, could have expected the profound impact such a bond would have on their lives.

“Good to see you coming out of your shell,” he said.

“Glad to be a part of something worthwhile,” Miranda nodded, “I’m finally beginning to see how you inspire so much confidence.”

She glanced behind him, and tipped her head, “you and Jack have really turned him around.”

Shepard turned, surprised to see Liara had quietly slipped up behind him.  She wrapped her arms around his neck, laughing at his surprise.

“He’s a work in progress,” explained Liara, “and it’s a two way road.”

“More, if you consider Jack,” added Shepard, recovering.

Miranda sighed, “I do not know how you keep up with her.”

“Says her drinking partner,” retorted Liara.

An insistent beeping echoed through the room, as an alert symbol appeared on the holovid display.

“I am sorry to interrupt,” came a computerized voice, “hello Ms. Lawson.”

Miranda nodded, “EDI.”

“We coming up on Omega?” asked Shepard.

“Affirmative Captain,” replied the AI.

“I won’t keep you,” said Miranda, “be careful.  We already stirred up a damn hornet’s nest there.”

“Come now Miranda,” grinned Shepard, “I’m always careful.”

“Do you mean that Shepard,” asked EDI, “or is that a joke?”

Liara shuddered, “Goddess…I hate it when he gets that look…”


	33. The Ambassador

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!    

Chapter 33

Omega, he always returned to Omega, it seemed.  Currently, Shepard and his crew were riding an armored cab to a rendevous on the Smuggler's Rock.  Carved stone and glowing eezo gave way to what almost seemed a sprawling cityscape.  Neon lights and harsh industrial aesthetics warred for supremacy.  Shepard thought it odd, this familiar feeling.  Perhaps he should consider asking Aria for a flat, to match his abode on the Citadel.

He shook his head, no use straining this relationship, whatever it was.  His understanding with the Pirate Queen of Omega seemed to be one of debts.  Problem was, neither of them could keep track of who was ahead anymore.  Shepard smirked as he was ushered through security, entering into a large foyer.  Marble and glass adorned the giant hall, large chandeliers glimmering from the vaulted cieling.

"Wish Liara was here," muttered Shepard, "she’s better at these official functions."

Beside him, a green-skinned asari was clad in form fitting black leather.  It was an eye-catching affair to be sure, cut low in all the right places.  Her mini jacket, however, hid a holstered pistol, and her boots were fit for combat.

"Doubtless," Shiala smirked, "but Maiden T'Soni deemed it unwise."

Shepard pondered slightly at the honorific, then remembered that Shiala had once been an acolyte of the Matriarch Benezia, Liara's late mother.  There were surely decades of history there that he was missing.

"Besides," she continued, "Liara's coordinating Lt. Cmdr. Williams’ contact with your salarian source, as well as Jack's meeting with the krogan."

The SPECTRE shook his head.  It never rained, but it damn well poured.  Once he'd hit Omega, Aria's people had contacted him concerning their batarian interests.  Shepard had been one step ahead, and had brought along Aria's pet vorcha, Vash, for the meeting.

On the other hand, he had yet to contact Major Kirrahe.  There were still some malcontents within the salarian STG, displeased with Shepard's knowledge of its inner workings.  Some of their experiments put Frankenstein's monster to shame.  Even if he could ignore what he'd seen on Surkesh, there were some who couldn't afford to leave him alone.  They hadn't attack him directly, yet; but if he continued to prod, nothing would stop them sending assassins.  And he couldn’t be on guard forever…

Shepard smirked again, as he walked through the weapon scanners of the building, paying the alarms no heed.  He was unphased by the protests of the local security.

"I don't leave my gun...ever," he stated to a turian gaurd, "you want it empty...I can put a clip in your chest."

The vorcha behind him coughed, which Shepard now realized was an equivalent to laughing.

"You listen to Shepard," said Vash, "he more feerce than krogan Patriarch."

The SPECTRE allowed himself a small grin.  He never could leave well enough alone.  Which, he supposed, was just as well.  At least he now had a team to work with.  Despite his misgivings about Ashley Williams, she was a competent soldier.  He could trust her to bring Major Kirrahe and Javik in safely.  However, he wasn't so sure he was ready to deal with the intel they would provid.

The meeting with the krogan only made matters more complicated.  It caused Shepard to emit another groan.  Wrex, leader of the denizens of Tuchanka, had sent a delegation to Omega.  Grunt was likely in tow.  However, Shepard was running short on time, he couldn't go himself.  With a growing shortage of familiar faces, he'd sent Jack to meet with the firebrand of a krogan.  He hoped it was worth it, and that nothing important got destroyed.

Shepard shuddered, Jack and Grunt were destructive forces by themselves.  It unnerved him to consider what they'd get up to together.  Soon enough, however, all other thoughts were forced from his mind.  Shepard came face to face with the Master of Omega herself.

"Matron Ar-ee-a," said Vash in his guttural accent, "I breeng Shepard."

The violet-skinned asari before them was adorned in her classic black jumpsuit, a white and red jacket draped over her shoulders.  Aria placed the glass in her hand on a nearby tray.

She sauntered up to Shepard, presenting her hand.  He arched an eyebrow in return.  The SPECTRE would be damned if he was going to kiss it, so he settled for a firm handshake.  It pretty much summarized his rapport with the gangster.  It was an alliance of convenience, lest they destroy each other.  Considering the event, he supposed the batarian concept of "honored enemy" might apply.

"Can't blame me for trying," Aria laughed, tipping her head slightly, "so, I hear I'm sending suppies to Feros?"

She turned to Vash, who bowed to her.

"In return for...services rendered," offered Shepard, "besides, I brought back your vorcha.  He's a unique sort."

Aria nodded, "it's rare for one of them to reach such an old age..."

"Don't most vorcha die at twenty?" asked Shepard.

"Well, most get killed by twenty," quipped Aria, "consider it their nature.  But Vash here is over twenty-five years old.  I dare say he's more...considered, and well spoken, than his brethren."

"Gargh," spat Vash, "other vorcha too scared to challenge me."

His laughter subsided, as another figure walked through the door opposite them.  Shepard had never seen a female of the batarian race before.  If he had, he didn't recall.  This particular specimen was tall, almost as tall as the SPECTRE.  Her skin was a light, rich burgundy color.  What looked like dark crimson dreadlocks flowed from her scalp.  Shepard knew the species had no hair, and noticed the tubuline structure had a shiny appearance; yet it was dark, almost black.

He couldn't discern whether it was part of a headress, or whether batarian hair was made of silicone.  The SPECTRE decided it was less than diplomatic to ask; and the effect was pleasant enough.  Flowing earth-tone robes covered snug olive-colored light armor.  Shepard drew himself straight to attention, titling his head slightly to the left, a symbol of respect and honor in the batarian culture.

"Madame Ambassador...I wish we could have met under better circumstances."

The batarian's piercing violet eyes blinked, "Captain Shepard...an honor.  You may call me Ashrai."

The batarian was clearly taken aback by Shepard's knowledge of their customs, and replied with her own tilting of the neck, a hair deeper than his had been.  Shepard pondered a moment, realizing what such a gesture meant.  Either she felt he was her elder, or that she owed him some debt.

He hadn't known what to expect from the meeting, but Ashrai seemed personable enough.  Still, Shepard's history with the batarian race had been less than sterling.  Raider attacks nothwithstanding, Shepard’s actions would have been declarations of war against the batarian people, had it not been for the Reaper War.

Ashrai noticed his discomfort, and pouted playfully, "please Shepard, there's enough trouble in the universe without needlessly adding more."

He shrugged, "you are more generous than most, I'm afraid."

The Ambassador laughed.  She'd heard the stories of Shepard's silver tongue.  It contrasted greatly from the tales of his exploits against the Hegemony.  She certainly hadn't expected him to greet her in batarian fasion, much less with an honorific.  Upon landing on Omega, the Human had even sent Aria recordings of Terric's final mission.  T'Loak had, of course, forwarded it to her.

Ashrai blinked back her tears, "thank you for trying to save my people..."

Shepard nodded, understanding her previous gesture now.  He was about to glance downwards, then considered that the gesture might convey the wrong message in batarian.

"Terric was a good man," he offered, looking her in the eye, "his loss weighs on me...as does the loss of Bahak..."

The batarian pursed her lips.  The subject was a touchy one at best.  It had been, of course, her idea to invite the 'Butcher of Bahak' to treat with the Hegemony.  She'd heard of Shepard's rousing ability to gather disparate forces, but had never met the man.  

If he wasn't what she'd hoped for, her Clan might well lose all in the Council negotiations.  It was a great gamble, but one she was prepared to pay for personally.  Meeting the man, however, had set her mind at ease.  Perhaps she could help her father after all.

Ashrai smiled graciously at Shepard, "the losses of Elysium and Mindoir are no less felt."

The SPECTRE drew silent, forcing back the memories that he felt assaulting him.  His face betrayed no emotion, but he nodded, appreciating the gesture.  Beside him, Shiala caught a look from Aria, then tapped Shepard on the arm.

"I apologize," said Shiala, "our host needs a few words with the Captain."

Shepard turned, then looked back to Ashrai and Shiala, tilting his head slightly.

"Shiala, please handle the particulars of our visit to the Hegemony.  Please excuse me Ambassador."

 

As he drew close to Aria, Shepard saw a bemused expression on her face.

He glanced sideways at her, "should I be concerned?"

T'Loak pursed her lips, "apparently, Vash wants to join your crew..."

The SPECTRE chuckled, sipping at his drink before coming to his senses.

"You aren't joking..."

She shook her head.

"Er...why?"

Aria shrugged, "he said something about having fun while aboard the Normandy.  I think he just wants to spend his last years...accomplishing something."

Shepard blinked, "you're saying he wants to leave behind a legacy?  Why, and what the hell would he accomplish on my ship?"

The asari cocked her head to the side, "as I said, Vash is more considered than most vorcha.  He wants to pay his debt to me, by helping me pay my debt to you.  And with this business in the batarian Hegemony..."

The Captain nodded, he could certianly use all the help he could get.  Still, it galled him somewhat that even Aria was offering such unwavering support.

"Do I look that desperate?" he quipped.

She placed her hand on his shoulder, as if about to say something.  Suddenly, Shepard heard static on his headset.  Aria tapped the comm in her ear, cursing.

"Shit, we've got unwanted guests."

"Who is it?"

"Between the rogue salarian STG, and the warring batarian Clans...I'll lay even odds."

"Well, I do seem to be popular these days," the SPECTRE gestured to Vash and Shiala.

Aria looked to the batarian Ambassador, "I'm sorry Ashrai...it looks like you'll have to get aboard the Normandy sooner, rather than later."

Crichton nodded, "my thoughts exactly."

"My forces will stay with Aria," said Ashrai, "to decieve them into thinking I'm still here."

"And to help lower your tab with me I bet," replied T'Loak.

The corners of Ashrai's mouth twitched, "no sense in burning any bridges."

The Pirate Queen's face sneered, as she smiled her death's head grin, "meanwhile, I get to enforce my favorite rule on Omega..."


	34. Joyride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 34

Elsewhere on Omega, Jack sat in a booth inside the station's most famous club, Afterlife.  Across the table from her sat a krogan.  The male was clad in silver armor.  Currently, he was knocking back a rather large bottle.

"Huh," Jack said, noticing the liquid, "it's green."

Grunt laughed, "this stuff?  It's the only decent drink they have here!"

She noted that he sported a few new scars, though one could barely tell with krogan physiology, "so, where's the delegate?"

"You're looking at him," belched the young male krogan, "Clan Urdnot wants me to make sure your sorry hides stay attached.  Besides, Wrex was getting tired of me killing all his enemies for him."

Jack nodded, unsurprised, "so, Wrex sent you eh?  How's the old bastard doing?"

"I knew I liked you," he chuckled, "you've got the spirit of a krogan..."

Jack grinned.  As much as she'd been forced into the role of a responsible intructor, being around Grunt reminded her of the old days.

"Maybe we'll find something to kill with big guns again," she said wistfully.

"One can only hope," nodded Grunt in a somber tone.

Jack rose to her feet after finishing off her glass, "well, let's get to-"

A chime rang in her ear as Jack grabbed her jacket.

"We have a problem," came Liara's voice over the comm.

As much of a firestarter as Jack was, her efforts paled in comparison to her lover's talent for trouble.  The woman rolled her eyes, wondering why she'd expected anything else, with Shepard involved.

Grunt tapped the comm on his ear, "what has the Battlemaster gotten into this time?"

"Grunt," said Liara, "sorry, but I need you to bring yourselves over quickly, so we can send some backup to Shepard."

"Where's the Council bitch?" asked Jack, referring to Ashley.

"Still bringing in Kirrahe and Javik," explained the asari, "she'll be en route as soon as she can."

"And Shepard?" said Jack.

"Currently in a high speed chase," explained Liara, "they are heading towards Normandy in an armored car."

Grunt nodded, "hmm, suddenly, I feel in the mood for a joy ride.  Who's driving?"

Jack looked at the krogan, immediately understanding his meaning.

She smiled, "not you, I heard what you did on the Citadel..."

Grunt laughed, "lies, all of it...let's stop jawing already!"

The duo rushed out of Club Afterlife, despite Liara's protests to head straight to the Normandy.

"Listen hon," said Jack, "we wait too long, we might be too late to help...besides, I can't control where Wrex's delegate wants to go..."

Liara sighed over the intercom, "by the Goddess, fine...just come back alive..."

Jack nodded, "consider this payback for Feros...just make sure the Council bitch is ready for us."

"Jack...go easy on Ashley..."

She sniffed in reply, "it's good for her character...I'll let off when she deserves it..."

Whatever the reply, Jack didn't hear it, as she peeled out of the parking lot, the engines of her hovercar whining in protest.  The mass effect generators let out a throaty growl, as Jack charged through the skyways of Omega.  She laughed as the other cars honked at the rogue vehicle.  Grunt roared at the top of his lungs, drawing out his shotgun as he settled into the passenger's seat.

***********************

Two large skycabs, one black and one dark green, raced through the skyways of Omega.  They chased a third, one which housed the Galaxy's first Human SPECTRE…

Shepard still wondered at the idiosyncrasy of mist, industrial or not, which fogged his windshield.  He cursed his luck, barely able to see.  The buildings and surroundings were nothing but a blur of blue and gray, as he revved up the speed of the armored hovercraft.  The oncoming traffic horned and swerved out of the way, making a path for the tempestuous vehicles.  Still, Shepard barely managed to swerve in time, as he veered hard to the right.

The passing blue car clipped one of the following vehicles, sending it into a spin.  The green car pushed forward.  Meanwhile, the black craft righted itself and swerved through the skybridges, as pedestrians ducked in dismay.  Then the car regained control, falling behind the green one.  Gunfire erupted, as riflemen edged from the sides of the cars, blasting into the skyway.

Shepard shook his head, this couldn't last, something would hit them at this rate.  He lowered the hovercar to street level, bringing the chase to ground.  The SPECTRE would have to hope that no road blocks would impede them.  The magnetic pull of the highway would render any transition back into the skyway much too slow, leaving them sitting ducks.  Still, better that than a head-on collision above.

Sherpard simply grinned; he thrived on challenges.  Beside him, Shiala was muttering a prayer to herself, as Ashrai looked on breathlessly.  He couldn't tell if she was transfixed or horrified.  Shepard nodded to Vash, thumbing back at their assailants.  The vorcha grasped an assault rifle, as he lifted up a portion of the hovercar's sectioned canopy.  Vash took aim, firing back into the two approaching vehicles.

“Well this is exciting,” gasped Ashrai, "haven't had this much fun in a while..."

The SPECTRE shook his head, chuckling, as Shiala stared at them.

"You are both insane..."

Shepard was going to reply, when he saw another hovercraft plummeting down from the skyway above.

“Watch out!” shouted Shiala, as Shepard swerved away from the assailant.

It seemed his fears had been correct; the enemy had been waiting for them...


	35. Cat's Paws

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 35

On the streets of Omega, three hovercars weaved in and out of traffic.  Gunfire rained from each vehicle, scattering shards of broken glass and shrapnel across the surroundings.  As a fourth shuttle careened down at them, Shepard cursed…

However, at the last possible moment, the car turned, avoiding the SPECTRE's vehicle.  The shuttle then side-swiped one of the attacking vehicles, smashing the hapless passengers against the railing.  The car flipped end over end, crashing into the side of a building.

The final pursuing car drew to a halt, as a flying shard of twisted metal clipped the back of it.  The vehicle fishtailed, but drew steady.  Several salarians, decked to the gills in black armor and heavy weapons, poured out.  Shepard wanted to keep going, but another shuttle stopped him.  This one was less friendly, firing into the highway before him, leaving Shepard no room to drive.

Out of the allied shuttle emerged Jack, flinging a biotic Shockwave into the heavy gunners.  Beside her followed Grunt, rushing into the group following her attack.  His shotgun sang a bloodthirsty song, and the krogan roared in delight.  Shepard brought his car sideways before exiting.  He drew out the batarian Ambassador, as the SPECTRE and Vash covered her.  Shiala fired back at the heavies on their flank, helping Jack and Grunt finish off the salarians.

"Looks like the STG doesn't like us very much!" shouted Jack to Shepard.

Ashrai shook her head, "that shuttle has Blood Pack markings!"

Shepard glanced at the gunship, noting the angry red symbols.  It was blood pack alright, which meant either krogan or batarians.  And considering their current company...

"You mean your enemy is working with salarian extremists?!"

More distressing, however, was how they'd managed to buy off forces that were supposedly loyal to Aria T'Loak.  As if to accentuate the fact, a hail of firepower rained down aganst the farside of the hovercraft.

Ashrai shrugged, wincing as she leaned against the armored vehicle, "our enemies are capable of anything!"

The Pirate Queen wouldn't be happy; she'd go on a warpath for this.  Not that it mattered much, Shepard realized, considering they'd be dead.  Jack and Grunt drew back to their car, taking shelter as Shiala provided more cover.

"We're sitting ducks!" shouted Jack, mirroring his thoughts, "we can't stay here!"

'No kidding,' thought Shepard, 'they have us dead to rights...'

He saw no exit...

"Keep your shirt on Jack," came another voice over the comm.

Yet another shuttle descended from the skyway above, drawing side by side with the attacker.  The side hatch opened, revealing a turrent.  At its controls was a human woman in blue armor.  Ashley Williams grinned fiercely, as she unloaded into the Blood Pack shuttle.  The red hovercraft shuddered under the attack.  Glass and metal warped from the impact, until the car caught fire and fell away.

Ashley's shuttle drew streetside, and she waved, "get in!  Before reinforcements arrive!"

Jack rushed into the shuttle like a madwoman, "can't believe I'm actually glad to see you...bitch!"

Williams laughed, "thank the pilot, crazy bastard flies like a bat out of Hell!"

Shepard heard another familiar voice as he ushered in Ashrai and the rest of the squad.

"You're welcome," said Major Kirrahe.

As Shepard settled into his chair, he noticed Grunt.

"Battlemaster,” saluted the young krogan, “Wrex and Bakara send their regards...now let's get out of here!"

Shepard laughed, turning to Kirrahe, "Major...punch it!"

The salarian nodded, as the shuttle raced towards the Normandy, "time to get off this rock..."

********************

It felt so long ago, since Shepard had held a meeting like this.  Almost a dozen souls were gathered around the CIC in Normandy.  The holovid in the center displayed nothing.  The computer terminals about the room glowed against the white lights along the bulkhead, adding a red tint.  The last time this many had gathered in his ship, they had been at war with the Reapers.  Shepard shook the thought away, lest it bring more demons to the forefront of his mind.

He noticed three crewmates missing, "where's the rest of the squad?"

"Grunt felt like skipping the talk," replied Jack, "he's sparring down in the cargo bay with Vash.  They said to call when something else needed fighting."

The SPECTRE shook his head; that certainly seemed like them.

"And Javik," he grinned, "let me guess, didn't feel like bothering with the concerns of other organics?"

"Actually," offered Liara, "he just wanted to observe the match."

"My mobile platform is also present," came EDI's voice over the intercom, "we'll make sure they don't tear a hole in the hull."

 

Shepard nodded, laughing.  A year ago, the Prothean would not have made the effort, instead sequestering himself in his cabin.  Certainly, he wouldn't have accepted spending any time with a synthetic, such as EDI.  Still, he thought it odd that Javik would have no concerns over their next move.  The Prothean must have learned to trust Major Kirrahe a great deal, in the short time they'd been working together.

He turned to Kirrahe, "so, what did you and Javik find?"

The salarian nodded to the others arrayed in the room.  He knew Ashley and Liara, of course, but the rest were relatively new faces.  He wondered why Williams was sitting alone, off to the side.  Usually, the Lt. Commander was more sociable, as was Shepard.  By contrast, the two of them were acting almost cold to one another.

He shrugged off the thought, there were more pressing matters at hand.  Using his omnitool, Kirrahe brought up a series of schematics; and the holovid in the center of the room displayed the salarian homeworld of Surkesh.  He tapped his arm, bringing up series of genetic experiments on the display.  Liara noted the helical structures, and telltale marks of genetic modification.

"As many of you will recall," stated the Major, "Shepard's brokerage of peace between the krogans and the salarians was predicated on the release of several specimens from the R&D branch of STG."

Liara nodded, remembering it as if it were yesterday.  The salarians had genetically neutered the krogan race long ago, at the behest of the turians.  Many within the STG felt this a gross misuse of power, even though it had been necessary to avert war, so long ago.

During the Reaper War, the key to winning had been reversing that misstep.  This was how Shepard had crafted the peace between the krogan and the turians, despite protest from the salarian leadership, an office dubbed “the Dalatrassy.”

"During the rescue mission," continued Kirrahe, "Shepard attained information that STG was involved in further experimentation, much of it in direct opposition of Council Law."

Shepard nodded, "unfortunately, we couldn't act on this intel without starting another war."

So Kirrahe had taken it upon himself to find proof of who had signed off on the projects.  However, upon research, he had found a distressing omission of data; nobody seemed to be in charge of any of the actual projects.  The user logs stated a general oversight committee, but merely pointed to an undending series of shell organizations, no names attached.  The salarians were known for their methodical nature, so such an occurence was hardly a mishap.

"I found a like mind in Dr. Padok Wiks," said Kirrahe, "who had been helping Dr. Mordin Solus with the Genophage cure."

Shepard remembered the doctor.  It had been Wiks who had contacted them, and faciliated the transfer, at great personal risk.  It seemed an obvious collaboration, as Wiks and Mordin were like peas in a pod.  He tried not to think too long about Mordin, thankful at least that the salarian had died on his own terms…

The projects had continued further, however.  During the Reaper War, many had seen the biotic prowess of the Galaxy's last Prothean.  Considering that the Normandy had carried the crew all over the universe, there was ample opportunity to collect genetic data from the battlefields.

"Somone had gotten a hold of Javik's blood or skin," explained Kirrahe, "and they asked Dr. Wiks to engineer a clone from the samples."

The rest of the crew stirred.  Many glanced at Shepard, recalling his brush with cloning technology, at the hands of Cerberus.  The SPECTRE surreptitiously glanced at his own hand.  Some mornings, he'd still wake up wondering who and where he was.  It still haunted him, was he the original, or a copy, like the clone that had tried to kill him?

Liara had assured him that he was the original, something about the first time she'd looked into his eyes.  Jack pretty much asserted that it didn't matter, so long as he remembered her, and more specifically, never forgot he was in love with her.

Shepard stifled a grin, looking back up at the salarian, "Padok Wiks refused, which lead to the current situation.  So, do we have any clues as to who ordered this?"

Kirrahe shook his head, "all I got from our searches was one name...Paladin."

The crew drew its collective breath.

"That was the name we got from Feros," said Shiala, "they were responsible for the Dark Energy Dampening Field."

"So, what we have here is a silent civil war," reasoned Liara, "one between members in the salarian hierarchy, as well as the batarian."

“And we can’t do a damn thing to them yet,” spat Ashley.

"This is bullshit!" protested Jack, "what about that attack on Omega?!"

Kirrahe shook his head, "all masquearing as Eclipse mercs, or Blood Pack.  We couldn't get any other information out of them, and the survivors invariably killed themselves."

The crew drew silent once more.  It took a special combination of training and fear to drill that sort of behavior into an organization.  Whoever Paladin was, they had reach, far too much to be so unknown.

Still, it was Kirrahe's efforts with Garrus that had sent the warning call to Aria.  Even though Vakerian wasn't part of the Normandy's crew, he'd managed to save the mission, even before Shepard had made it to Omega.  The crew felt the loss of missing friends, half a galaxy away; but they all had jobs to do.  There was no time for reminiscing.

"Alright," grunted Shepard, "Liara, I need you to use your sources, break down the power players here; I need a list of suspects within the salarian STG and Dalatrassy."

Liara nodded in reply.  Some of them suspected that she was the Shadow Broker, but much of the crew didn't.  There was no need to go spreading the information around, especially in their line of work.  Shepard felt now was the perfect time to introduce their newest passenger, who had been sitting quietly until now.

"Time to focus on the mission at hand," announced the SPECTRE, "and a more concrete dilemma."

The Human gestured to Ashrai, the batarian Ambassador, who introduced herself to the rest of the crew.  Much to her surprise, several of them tilted their heads in response, in the batarian fashion.

Shepard laughed, noting her surprise, "wouldn't do to unwittingly insult our hosts, would it?"

Ashrai smirked back at him, "only you would call politics a more 'concrete' matter, Captain..."

She turned to the holovid, accessing her omnitool to relay information on the display.  They could now see the ships of the batarian Hegemony.  All the vessels, from every fleet, were gathered in a single solar system.

"While we rebuild," explained Ashrai, "the fleet has taken position near the Homeworld, as well as its surrounding moons."

She gestured to several space stations, indicating that terraforming was proceeding along several worlds in the system.  Those not part of the fleets lived either on these space stations, or in contained tenements planetside.  However, the batarian Hegemony was not used to opperating in such close proximity to so many of its subjects.  Furthermore, it seemed that several contractors from the quarian Flotilla were involved, as they were the most familiar with life in space.

It didn't help that many batarians only associated with quarians in servitude.  Moreover, entire clans who'd spent generations in opposition were now forced to live side by side.  As such, the political stress was at an all time high.

"Normally," said the Ambassador, "batarian slavery operates similar to the indentured servitude of the asari on Ilium."

She noted the looks on their faces, and nodded, "I am aware of how our raiders treat others within the Terminus.  The caste system was never meant to be abused in such a manner.  Many within the Hegemony used the looming war to justify a great many atrocities."

Shepard remained silent, not even having to recall his past.  When he had returned to the Citadel, after the end of the Reaper War, Humanity First had approached him to join their campaign.  He had refused, of course, and been ridiculed for it, though only by the extremists.  Shepard shook his head; it wasn't as if he'd simply forgotten the events of Elysium, or Mindoir.  What they failed to understand was the enormity of the fight against the Reapers.  How was anyone supposed to hold grudges during the damn Apocalypse?  They had needed each other just to survive.

In the end, he could no longer bring himself to hate those who had helped him liberate Earth.  Although, he had to admit, it hadn't made his peace with Balak any easier to accept.  What soured his stomach more was the acclaim Balak had gained as a result, as leader of the batarian fleets.  He said as much to Ashrai.

She laughed, "oddly enough, this managed to undercut his ability to feed into the warhawk philosophy.  I think it actually mellowed the bastard...though I still can't forgive him..."

Shepard nodded slowly, not wanting to press the issue.  Still, he needed to ask, as there seemed to be some history here.

"I'm sorry, but is there anything we should know, going into this?"

Ashrai sighed, "I suppose you deserve to know...I was once a slave as well."

The SPECTRE blinked, how could the Ambassador to a batarian clan have started out a slave?

"I attended my masters for years, having been born in servitude," she explained, "but before the Reaper War, I was involved in a Colony Strike..."

She caught the look in Shepard's eye, and assured him it wasn't a Human Alliance operation, consisting more of the sort of mercenaries that had attacked Shepard's own homeworld.  It was during this battle that Ashrai had organized resistance against the mercenary army.  In the process, she had managed to save the leader of Clan Verrad.

"He had no family," explained Ashrai, "so everyone assumed he would take me as a wife.  It is our way."

It was the only appropriate method for her to raise her station, Shepard assumed.  It seemed likely that many seeked to advance their station in life in such a manner, especially if they were able to produce an heir.

"It's what every slave dreams of," she said in reverie, "forging one's destiny through will and skill alone."

However, the leader of Clan Verrad hadn't taken her for a wife.  The Patron of Clan Verrad had lost his family to sectarian violence.  With no a suitable wife, he wasn't likely to sire children any time soon.  Ashrai had been too young at the time, so instead, he had adopted her as a daughter.

This, understandably, had sent ripples through batarian society.  It was a precedent.  A Noble's bastard was barely palatable.  Now one of low birth could ascend to the upper echelons as well?

"Balak never forgave my father for it," said Ashrai, "and bestowed what favor he could upon our enemies, the Clan Akesh."

A Clan which, by all estimation, staunchly opposed the peace being brokered by her father.  It could explain motive, of course, but they still had no proof.  Moreover, Shepard had been sent on a mission to broker peace with the batarians, to forge diplomatic relations.  The SPECTRE hadn't expected to kick over such a hornet's nest in Clan Verrad.  It further complicated matters that the opposition was engaged in a blood feud with Ashrai's clan.

Shepard sighed, "so, it looks like your neck is on the line.  You've placed a lot of faith in me."

The batarian's smile faltered a bit, for the first time showing the vulnerability she'd been trying to hide.  The SPECTRE didn't need to hear her answer, and turned to the crew.

"Alright people," he stated, "I know we've all got baggage..."

Everyone knew about his history with the batarians.  Hell, Jack had just as horrid a past with them as any, yet here Ashrai stood, aboard their ship.  Grunt and Javik both had grievances against the salarians, yet they were enrusting their lives to Kirahhe as a part of the crew.  Even his own operations had killed enough vorcha, during the run on the Collectors, to classify as genocide, yet Vash was still part of the crew.

Shepard looked at Ashley.  Though few had actually seen the fight, everyone knew that there was bad blood between them.  The Lt. Commander forced herself to look Shepard in the eye, she owed him that much at least.

"We all have history," he continued, "and there's any number of agenda's rolling around the Galaxy.  It's birthing pains, as the Galaxy rights itself again."

All those differences didn't matter.  It was the joining of those disparate cultures that had allowed them to defeat the Reapers.

"And if we can survive the Reapers," continued the Commander, "we can do anything we damn well please..."

He stepped up to Ashley, and turned to the others, "so I'm saying this here.  Whatever we had in the past, it ends right now.  Look to your sides, that's who you can trust..."

He offered his hand to Williams, "that's who's in charge of protecting your life..."

She couldn't speak, glancing at Shepard as if he were a ghost.  After all she had done, he would go this far to apologize...to her?

Ashley shook her head, "I should be the one apologizing...Captain."

His arm was still outstretched, his expression resolute.  He wasn't offering to forget the past, but he was still willing to work with her.  He was still her Captain, and in time, perhaps he'd be her friend again.  She firmly grasped his hand.  Ashley didn't care what anyone said, she would spend the rest of her life making it up to Shepard.

"To hell with the Council," grinned Ashley, "let's paste those batarian jackasses!"

She turned to Ashrai, blushing and bowing her head, "er...sorry.  I meant-"

Ashrai laughed, "no, it's alright...I look forward to what Clan Akesh will make of the Infamous Captain Shepard, and his crew..."


	36. Karshaan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 36

Shepard stood behind the Normandy's cockpit, as it approached batarian space.  Beyond the blast windows, he could see the Fleets of the Hegemony.  Amidst the gleaming starships was a large station, almost the size of a moon.  Shepard noticed a shimmer, likely from the atmosphere emitted from giant mass effect generators.

As they drew closer, he could make out bits of green, blue, and reddish brown along the installation...the effects of terraforming.  It made sense, he thought, a perfect test for what would eventually help the batarians rebuild Karshaan.  Earth was undergoing similar initiatives.

A chime came from the Normandy's sensors, as the security verified the ship's credentials.  Shepard felt a nervous tic in his neck.  His wasn't the best reputation with the batarians.  Once again, Shepard questioned the wisdom of sending him on this particular mission.

The voice on the other end requested Ashrai's security phrase.

"All paths lead to Karshaan," she uttered, followed by a series of numbers.

Shepard laughed, reminded of his first trip to the Quarian Flotilla.

Ashrai glanced at him, quirking an eyebrow.

"There's a very similar phrase in Earth's history,” Shepard shrugged, “it pertains to one of our more famous ancient empires...the Romans."

“Ah,” the batarian nodded, "yes, it never ceases to amaze me, how societies so far apart can manage to be so alike."

She pondered a moment, before speaking, "I've read a bit of your histories, and found a few correlations to the Ancient Feudal Empires in Japan."

The SPECTRE laughed again, "yes, the asari Justicar, Samara, liked them as well.  I suppose a desire for honor and glory translate well enough across cultures."

Ashrai's face sobered, as if she were about to inform Shepard of something unpleasant.

He caught the look, and sighed, "don't tell me I have to make nice with Balak or something."

She shrugged, "you may have to, but that isn't my concern.  Regarding our safety, however..."

Shepard knew they were in the Terminus Systems.  As such, the Council had little clout.  The fear of reprisal was what kept Council Law somewhat relevant.  Still, he was a SPECTRE, and represented the Citadel.  Moreover, he was in the company of an Ambassador of the Hegemony.  Surely, that accorded them some form of protection.  Shepard said as much.

"Akesh has no concern for such honor," explained Ashrai, "and you will not be allowed to bring the crew of the Normandy aboard."

In his cockpit, Joker shook his head, "great, so what, Normandy's the only safe ground?"

"This ship represents a sovereign principality of the Council," stated EDI, seated beside him, "so long as we offer no hostility, we will continue to enjoy this status."

“Alright then, I can't bring any crew,” said Shepard, “still, I should be allowed to bring one ally, for personal protection, if nothing else.”

Ashrai slowly nodded, acknowledging the possibility, "but who could we take?"

She caught a strange look on Shepard's face upon asking the question.  It seemed equal parts amusement and fear.  The batarian shook her head, at least they were meeting her father first, a small moment to ready themselves, before they were thrown to the wolves...

******************

Shepard waited calmly at a large conference table.  The room was dominated with shrubbery and scenic art, which accented the slat walls of the bulkheads.  He was seated in a very comfortable chair.  It was fashioned from some form of leather, and the cushions positively swallowed him.  He reminded himself to order one of these, if he ever got the chance.

The Spectre glanced across the table at his "bodygaurd," the Delegate from Tuchanka.  Shepard smirked at Grunt.  The young krogan constantly tugged at a formal suit he was clearly unused to wearing.  The idea had been Shepard’s.  He could only take one crewmate, after all.

Most of them couldn't go anyway, whether because of past exploits, or to protect their identities.  Even Vash might be targeted by wayward members of the Blood Pack, as many of his vorcha brethren seemed to have allied with the batarian hard-liners, rather than Aria.  So, Shepard had needed a politically safe partner, and one that would immediately put assailants on the defensive.  The krogan had seemed the obvious choice.  He was the leader of Tuchanka's most celebrated military force, and represented the leading clan, Urdnot.

Grunt shook his head, "Jack threatened to neuter me if I didn't protect you Shepard, so you'd better not do anything stupid."

Shepard laughed aloud, "strange times indeed, when you're saying that to me Grunt."

Ashrai smirked, tapping the intercom in her ear, "ah, he's here, my father, Carlan Verrad..."

The three stood up, as the leader of Clan Verrad, Ashrai's father, entered the room.  The red-skinned batarian was in formal attire, like the rest of them, clad in a military suit and something resembling a cape.  He sported a scar along his cheek, one that ran down to his neck.  The old wound traveled across one of Carlan’s four eyes.  The eye was a prosthetic, blue, rather than brown, like the others.

Shepard inclined his head to the side, and the leader of Clan Verrad mimicked the gesture, before offering his hand.  Shepard shook hands with the batarian.  Carlan kept a firm grip for a bit more than courtesy demanded.

"It seems I have you to thank for my daughter's return," he commented.

The SPECTRE nodded, "I regret I couldn't do the same for Terric."

"He did his duty,” Carlan sighed, shaking his head, “and so did you...we've all lost loved ones, comrades in arms..."

The human could only agree.  He caught a glance in Carlan's eye, as the batarian looked to his daughter.  She nodded in reply.  Shepard glanced askance at the two.

Carlan laughed in return, "I didn't know how...receptive you'd be to our plight, considering your past."

Shepard understood, considering his well-known prior history, "well, let's just say we owe the batarian race a great deal, and Clan Akesh's insular views are not a childish luxury that any can afford."

Carlan arched an eyebrow, “an rather…artful way to state it, but true nonetheless.”

"More importantly," added Shepard somberly, "I don't care to remain in Balak's debt..."

Carlan laughed, "well said...and he feels the same.  Still, he won't impede you...he can't."

"Oh?" asked Shepard.

Ashrai nodded, "it was my idea.  Once Terric deemed you worthy, in his final letter to me, I officially accepted you as honored enemy to Clan Verrad."

Grunt shuffled at this last, ill at ease with the term.

Shepard sniffed, still getting used to the idea, "relax Grunt, it means I'm an honored guest who can't be harmed."

"And I am an honored enemy to Balak, thus he owes you the same hospitality,” Carlan continued, “none may legitimately challenge you but I, so long as you remain in my presense and under my auspices.”

Ashrai gestured, “which is why you couldn't bring more of your crew."

Shepard nodded once more, “allow me to introduce the krogan ambassador from Clan Urdnot.

"Finally, warriors of note, perhaps these young pups can learn something," quipped Carlan Verrad.

Grunt laughed, “looking forward to the chance to stretch my legs for a bit.”

Shepard shook his head, “what the hell did that mess on Omega count for?”

The krogan merely shrugged, as the Captain rolled his eyes in disbelief.

"So, when will the Hegemony convene for the peace treaty?" said Shepard, turning to Carlan.

The leader of Clan Verrad looked uncertainly at him, then to Ashrai.

"Well, about that...." she stated, "they won't..."

The SPECTRE groaned at that last.  He'd come all this way for this very reason.  

“Has it all been for nothing?” Shepard demanded, “Terric died to give us this chance!”

Carlan raised his hands, "peace Shepard, we must first present you to the Hegemony's leaders."

"As you know," explained Ashrai, "our people place more importance in gestures than words.  Seeing your confidence will speak more loudly than any summit."

"We must show that Clan Akesh are fools for disrespecting you," said Carlan, "and, by extension, fools for doubting me.”

“This, in turn,” finished Ashrai, “will allow us to present the Council's terms for peace."

Shepard shook his head again.  This was ridiculous.  Karshaan was in shambles, as were many other worlds.  Even the Citadel, the heart of Galactic Governance, had only just rebuilt.  Only by opening proper trade routes, by working together, could anyone survive.

Still, old grudges died hard, and not everyone learned the right lessons from the Reaper War.  The batarians were afraid, afraid of losing what little they had.  Clan Verrad had offered a path forward, but it was through uncharted territory, with unproven allies.

Clan Akesh, therefore, played to the fears of the lowest denominator, the established prejudices that the people could slip into like an old blanket.  It was intoxicating to cling to the old ways, to forget what had happened.

“Far too easy to dream that time will flow backwards,” said Carlan, “that things will simply be as as they were before.”

Shepard sighed, recalling Terra Firma's leaders, "yes...many of my people feel the same..."

"Which was why it is important to make a good impression," said Ashrai.

"I am honored to have the krogan grace us as well," Carlan nodded to Grunt, "no one will question the strength of Clan Urdnot."

Grunt, to his credit, nodded back, "the honor is ours...so long as noone crosses my hosts...or my Battlemaster."

Shepard sighed.  He hated this...posing at some fancy ball, while the Galaxy was embroiled in a quietly brewing civil war.  He considered himelf lucky, adding Grunt to the op had been a better call than he had hoped.  Keeping Liara on Normandy allowed the “Shadow Broker” to add her more clandestine skills as well.  He still wished more of his friends were here, but his purpose was clear.

"Well then," said Shepard, "we should go..."


	37. Champagne and Deceit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 37

The space station Shepard found himself on was replete with every luxury.  Indeed, the installation was so large, it even housed a city’s worth of people, and all the appropriate housing and buildings required to sustain such a population.  Currently, they were in a grand ballroom.  It was a spectacle of fountains and chandeliers, and adorned with gold ornamentation everywhere.

Shepard was wearing a black suit, similar to what he'd worn several times before, when station had demanded.  On his arm was Ashrai, who was wrapped in diaphenous formal robes.  A matching white hood was draped over Ashrai’s head, hiding her dreadlocks.  Shepard nodded appreciatively at her.  The evening gown was cut in the right places to draw the eye, yet flowed enough near her legs to hide a sidearm.

Shepard had to admit, "I feel somewhat naked without my gun..."

Beside them, Grunt chuckled, "that's what you have me around for..."

"Don't tell me-" started the Captain.

"What are they gonna do, take it from me?!" demanded the krogan, "HAH! Let them try..."

Shepard controlled his gestures, as Ashrai squeezed his arm.  Crichton had to remember that body language was everything to these people.  Grunt wouldn't be scrutinized for fear of Clan Urdnot.  But he, the "Butcher of Bahak," would have the eyes of everyone in the room.  Already, the SPECTRE could feel the intense stares of the crowd gathered in the room, all of them batarian.

"Where's your father?" he asked.

"Introducing you to the leaders of the Hegemony," whispered Ashrai.

Shepard was about to ask why he wasn't present, then recalled the politics involved here, "huh, they really like the cloak and dagger stuff, don't they?"

Ashrai remained silent, nodding imperceptibly.

He assumed that anything said could also be overheard.  Shepard scratched his ear, using the gesture to hide his communique over the comm, "well then, I guess it's ears only..."

It was code to the other person on the line, indicating that he wasn’t at liberty to speak freely to the other end.  Shepard heard Liara's voice through his earpiece…

"I'll make sure to keep you appraised of all the guests...sir..."

Shepard blinked several times, getting used to the new drawl that Liara spoke with.  Of course, the encryption protocols of the Shadow Broker couldn't be easily broken; Liara's pride wouldn't allow it.  It was still odd to hear what sounded like a Texan accent coming from the asari.  Still, he couldn't refuse her a bit of fun.

"So," said Shepard, pursing his lips, "Balak isn't here?"

"He deemed it...prudent sir," offered Liara.

"But he's paying for everything here," continued the SPECTRE.

"Of course," explained Ashrai.

Shepard nodded, gesturing to a passing waiter with green skin.  He noted the slave collar on the drell, and swallowed the bile rising to his throat.  Culture or no, the concept grated on him.

Crichton soldiered through, keeping his appearance calm, "a bottle of your finest for the lady..."

The slave fumbled for a moment, "erhm, the top label is reserved for our highest diplomats...sir..."

Shepard eyed the waiter, who had remained silent and detached until now, as was the bulwark of his people.  He caught sight of another batarian, an overboss in the same clothes as the wait-staff.  This batarian head-waiter sneered contemptuously at him.  To Ashrai, draped on Shepard’s arm, the overboss postively showered disdain with his eyes alone.

Crichton got the message.  He was being tested; and Ashrai, a former slave, and his host, was being insulted.  Therefore, it fell to Shepard to uphold her honor, and by extension, his own.

Ashrai squeezed his arm again, "it is unseemly to argue with the help."

Shepard nodded, turning to Grunt.  He couldn't rely on the krogan to fight his battles, however...

"My fellow Ambassador, are we thirsty?"

Grunt smirked, "I suppose I could drink, although I don't know if any of these pansy drinks are worthy of us."

Shepard shrugged nonchalantly, "it would be a shame for Admiral Balak to suffer the injustice of being called a bad host...I suppose I should never have let him survive that affair on Terra Firma...he'd never live down this embarrasment."

The SPECTRE played up the pompous, cocksure demeanor.  He made sure that he spoke just loud enough to be overheard by the surrounding partygoers.

'As if they weren't already eavesdropping,' he thought drily.

The poor drell was getting positively pale, and Ashrai was all but clawing at his arm, though her face betrayed nothing.  Shepard could hear Liara chuckle over the radio.

"Still, I suppose I am magnanimous enough to forgive him," stated Shepard, "after all, we did forge a peace that lead to the demise of the Reapers."

Grunt laughed, "well, after you've destroyed the largest, toughest things around, nothing really challenges anymore...I guess I can make do with a drink...for a start."

Shepard laughed, "indeed."

He turned, so that he could eye both the drell, and more importantly, the batarian overboss not far behind.

In a completely cold and deadpan voice, he said, "fine...two bottles, and I'll consider the matter forgotten..."

He didn't so much as raise his voice, simply allowing his demeanor to portray a general tone of annoyance.  He squared his shoulders, brooking no retort, as if inviting any reason at all to crush the ants he saw before him.

Shepard felt sorry for the waiter, but noticed a slight twitch appear at the corner of the drell's mouth.  It seemed the slave knew Shepard's intent clearly.  The batarian overboss made himself scarce, as the drell bowed, rushing off to bring Shepard his bottles.

"Well done," whispered Liara, "I wish I'd had you along during my summits on Thessia."

Shepard could understand.  Liara had explained once before, how she'd been ostracized for being a "pureblood" asari.  Though he couldn't understand it, most asari looked down on the practice of breeding within the species, as "nothing was gained."  Being the daughter of the Matriarch Benezia, a traitor, likely hadn't helped.

Indeed, as Liara's father had revealed, many of the other asari had placed a general alert on her.  Liara had built up many contacts in her time as an information broker on Illium.  She had consorted with more than a few questionable figures.  Therefore, if Liara fell out of line, Aethyta was to inform the asari Matriarchs.  The likely result would then be Liara’s assassination.  Considering Aethyta was now the asari Councilor, Shepard assumed the Matriarchs’ priorities had...shifted.

"Next time, I promise," he whispered, covering his mouth with a handkercheif, “I’ll be happy to join you on Thessia.”

Soon enough, the drell returned with the bottles.  Shepard calmly waited until the waiter opened the bottle, and began to pour the alcohol.  The SPECTRE glanced at Ashrai, who politely declined.  It would be unseemly to take such a gesture from one who had insulted her, after all.  Crichton glanced at Grunt, who merely took a whole bottle and knocked it back.

The krogan belched, "I've had better."

The Human turned back to the waiter, "I find the company of my host intoxicating enough, thank you..."

Turning to Ashrai, he tilted his neck to the left, the gesture of respect.  She, in turn, tilted a bit more deeply, yielding to Shepard the higher honor.  Ashrai was basically telling everyone that she was inferior to Shepard, simply because her father was his equal.  Being a former slave, she couldn't allow herself to dishonor her father.

He found the whole matter distasteful.  Shepard took Ashrai by both hands, as he led her onto the dance floor.

As they began to twirl to the music, the batarian looked at him, "Captain?"

He shrugged it off, "the lady looked like she was bored, and I'd be a poor guest to allow you to remain so."

"Sorry Liara," he whispered, "I'll make it up to you."

"No worries," replied Liara through his comms, “I’ll make sure you do.”

As Ashrai drew in breathlessly for the dance, Shepard couldn't help but notice an extra bit of bouyancy about her chest, more so than he'd been expecting.  He didn't consider himself a cad, but a man couldn't help but notice.

"Quad," was generally used to describe krogan male genitalia, specifically the two sets of testicles.  He'd heard the term used by several batarians over the years, assuming they meant the same.  It seemed, however, that the term for batarians actually referenced their females’ mammaries instead.

Shepard avoided glancing at Ashrai's breasts.  What the hell did it matter if she had four or not?!  It was none of his business.

She caught the look in his face, and smirked, "find something you like, Captain?"

He refused to be goaded, replying stoicly, "dancing with a beautiful woman is always enjoyable...I'll just have to make sure Jack doesn't kill me."

Ashrai laughed again, but stopped short as the music ended, and a slow clapping began to reach their ears.  Shepard disengaged from Ashrai, turning to see another batarian, green-skinned, with an almost red glint in his eyes.  Shepard noted a burn scar along the top of the headcrest.  This batarian's cape was affixed to what seemed like formal armor.

The color faded from Ashrai's face, though she allowed no other emotion to show in her eyes.

"Captain Shepard," she said evenly, "allow me to introduce General Garmok, head of Clan Akesh..."

Shepard’s ears pricked at the address.  This was the man who had sent assassins after Ashrai, who had railed against her Clan, who had effectively killed Terric.  None of it could be proven, of course.  The batarian's leering grin and narrowed eyes were all the proof that Shepard needed, he already hated this man.  Still, there was no need to appear rude…

The SPECTRE waited for Garmok to address Ashrai, which he did with a tilt of the head to the right, a gesture of superiority.  It was an insult, but one Ashrai couldn't afford to acknowledge.  Neither could she counter, at risk of shaming her father.  Ashrai was left with no recourse, and remained still.

Shepard forestalled her reply, playing the ignorant human, "General Garmok, well met."

The batarian turned to Shepard, as if he'd only just noticed the SPECTRE.  He tilted his head ever so slightly to the left, every movement screaming that the gesture was done out of necessity.

"The Butcher of Bahak," he sneered.

Shepard arched an eyebrow, tilting his head even less than the batarian had, ceding Garmok the lesser honor.  Several other batarians nearby shifted uncomfortably, noting the gesture from Shepard.

'Your insults are beneath my contempt,' thought Shepard, feeding the thought into his body language.

"I think," continued Shepard, "that the sacrifices of your people deserve a bit more than some grandiose headline.  They bought the Galaxy more time, at the cost of their lives."

He turned to Grunt, “what would you say of their sacrifice, Ambassador?”

“Worthy, honorable,” the krogan nodded, “such an apparent lack of respect for that battle is a grevious insult to warriors of every species.”

Just like that, Shepard had turned the insulting title, "Butcher of Bahak," into something that insulted not only him, but also the batarian people as a whole.  Garmok blinked several times, which was quite a display for a species with four eyes.  He glanced to the sides, as several batarian guests covered their mouths, hiding contemptuous smiles.

Ashrai silently praised Shepard's deft handling of the situation, though she grinned openly.  He’d managed to completely shift the mood of the room in his favor.

"Well said," came Carlan Verrad's voice, from beside them, "time to set such petty arguments aside.  We must forge a new peace, if we are to prosper."

Ashrai squeezed Shepard's arm once more, before letting go.  She glanced to Grunt, who nodded, taking her arm instead.

Admiral Carlan took Shepard, hand around the human's shoulder, as they began to make the rounds with the upper echelons of the batarian Hegemony.  They pointedly ignored Garmok.  With a final contemptuous sneer, the leader of Clan Akesh turned, following the coattails of the ensemble.

*******************

Once they were gone, Grunt shook his head, knocking back the drink in his hand, "damn pyjaks...I should just cave their skulls in."

Ashrai clenched her fists, which had been trembling, as she turned to the krogan.  She took one look at his unaffected face, and started laughing.

"It's refreshing to be in the company of such honesty," she said breathlessly, "a rare trait."

Grunt sniffed, "that's because you hang around too many idiots...I don't envy Shepard...the man has a quad!"

“Erm,” Ashrai blinked, “he's a male of his species, yes?!"

The krogan looked at her like she was insane, "of course he is!  We are both fine examples of manhood, it takes a real quad to kill a thresher maw on foot...dammit!"

Ashrai grinned, recalling krogan anatomy, "let's go find a place to sit down and drink something good, while I explain a few things to you..."

"Fine by me," he uttered, "I was about to start breaking some tables."

"Sadly, he's not joking," Ashrai said aloud to nobody.

She lead Grunt through the crowd.  Unsurprisingly, nobody got in their way.

******************

Shepard shook the hand of one final batarian diplomat, tilting his head appropriately.  Admiral Carlan then ushered him outside, to a balcony overlooking the gardens.  The old batarian adjusted his goggles over his prosthetic eye, laughing as he clapped Shepard on the shoulder.

"Well done my boy," he grinned, "you had Garmok eating crow.  I couldn't have done better!"

Shepard looked at the old admiral sideways, "don't be so sure...you handled this lot like a professional.  I've seen asari Matriarchs less composed."

Carlan shook his head, "these days, I care little for the game, no time for it!"

The final thing he'd hoped to accomplish, Carlan explained, was this peace with the Council.  He wanted to leave a lasting legacy for his daughter, something she could be proud of, so that she could forge her own path once he was gone.

Shepard could understand the sentiment, "still, if I may ask..."

"What happened to my old family?"

The SPECTRE nodded.

The leader of Clan Verrad gestured back to the party, "the damned game...politics.  My Clan was attacked by another, and I had no time to gather my generals.  My family paid the price, as did others’."

"But Ashrai saved your life..."

"And that of my best tacticians," he continued, "which allowed us time to counterattack.  My Clan owes its existence to her, but the bastards couldn't see past her slave collars."

Shepard still couldn't understand, “didn't you free her?

“It didn't matter,” explained the old batarian.  “She wasn't born of noble blood.  What was expected of me, then, was to beget a child with Ashrai.”

Shepard nodded, recalling the story, “the line of succession would have deemed such a child a bastard, but still acceptable.”

"But she was too young for that," said Carlan, "she had her whole life ahead of her...and I had no heir...maybe if I was ten years younger."

Shepard shook his head.  He considered Terra Firma, the salarian STG, the batarian Hegemony...

"Ignorant fools are in plentiful supply, it seems," noted Shepard, "you'd figure the Reaper War would have opened some eyes."

"That's why you're here, eh?"

The SPECTRE nodded again.  By now, Liara should have had time to drum up her contacts in the batarian Hegemony.  Shepard's own omnitool had provided a remote method for the "Shadow Broker," to access the security systems at the patry.  Had they been caught, there would be Hell to pay, but they had needed access to the computer records.

Shepard shook hands again with the admiral, "if you'll excuse me."

Carlan nodded, "of course, plausible deniability...I suddenly find my humours in no state to continue...I must retire..."

The SPECTRE grinned as the old fox left.  He reached into his jacket pocket, drawing what looked like a lighter, flicking the wick before shutting it again.  A noise canceller affixed to the lighter used Shepard's omnitool as a repeater.

"We're secure," he said into his comm, "you have anything?"

Liara replied, her drawl gone, "yes, but it will take time to sift through the data.  EDI and I will be working for a while."

"Draft Traynor if you need," he replied, "what have you got so far?"

He could here Liara flicking her teeth with her tongue, a sign of her exasperation.

"Seems like the esteemed General Garmok has never gained the acclaim of an Admiralcy, despite all the raids on human settlements during colonization disputes."

Shepard narrowed is eyes, "so, was he involved in Mindoir, perhaps even Elysium?"

"Not sure, but he certainly was a proponent of such behavior.  It never garnered him anything, as the Alliance turned him back often.  Then Balak survived Terra Nova..."

"And went on to lead the batarian fleets for Earth," deduced Shepard, "taking all the glory with it."

Garmok Akesh had struggled to grasp commendation through slavery and death, Shepard found himself caring not at all for this general's plight.

"Any connections to Blood Pack, Eclipse, or STG?"

"Nothing that sticks, mainly the free hires.  I also got a bit of disturbing information from Tali, and followed up on it."

Shepard perked up at this last.  Aria T'Loak had offered many gifts, in an attempt to absolve part of her debt to Shepard.  One such understanding involved a piece of intel she had given to Garrus.

"We know," continued Liara, "that Garmok's Clan is involved heavily in the slave trade."

The SPECTRE shook his head, "I imagine he claims umbrage under that ‘indentured servitude’ line as well?"

"By law, only the heavily indebted become enslaved.  Indentured servants, however, often earn their freedom, adding to the coffers of the Clan, enriching all within its auspices...but Akesh..."

His slaves were predominatly of non-batarian origin.  As horrid as Shepard found the practice, Akesh was worse.  Even other traders in the Terminus feared to cross him, and even less asked how he got his wares.

"So, other than being amoral, what's the 'disturbing' part?"

Shepard was waiting for the other shoe to drop, as it invariably did.  He wasn't disappointed.

"Recently, his slaves have gone missing...and from circumstantial evidence...it seems a great majority of them are...quarians...on Pilgrimage..."

“How did he hide them?” he asked, “and what is he using them for?”

"I...don't know..."

Shepard didn't even know where to begin with that.  He couldn't imagine what Tali must be feeling.  As horrid as the trade was, this new angle elevated it past "war crimes."  No facet of the "caste system" could justify such genocidal behavior.

"Stay on it...I want enough evidence to crucify this bastard..."

Before Shepard could hear the reply, he saw a commotion in the ballroom.

"Damn it...I've got to go..."

In the center of the grand ballroom, a spectacle was playing.  Shepard didn't know what had started it, only that Carlan seemed to be facing off against Grunt.  Shepard drew up to Grunt, tapping him on the shoulder.  The krogan jerked his head around, lowering his shoulders somewhat upon seeing Shepard.

"Grunt?"

The young delegate groaned, turning away, "sorry Battlemaster..."

Carlan patted the krogan on the shoulder, as he gestured with his chin to Shepard.  Shepard followed the line of Carlan's gaze, catching sight of what drew his attention.  It seemed that Ashrai was glaring daggers at a male batarian, who meerly sneered condescendingly.  He seemed familiar to Shepard.

Upon seeing the SPECTRE, his leering grin became wider, "ah, Shepard, so good to see you again..."

This batarian spat the words, as if tasting something foul.  The nearby crowd drew back, their silence deafening.

"Again?"

The batarian blinked, "you don't remember?  We met near Terra Nova, you coward!"

Now realization gleamed on Shepard.  Their host, and the current head of the Admiralty, Balak, had been instrumental in the terrorist attack against the human colony on Terra Nova.  During the race to save the colony, the SPECTRE had brokered a quick alliance with his subordinate.  The cease-fire had bought him the precious time needed to disarm the bombs, saving the hostages.

"Ah yes, you wanted me to kill Balak for you, seeing as how you were too weak to do it yourself.  What was your name again?"

The other batarian sneered through clenched teeth, "Chaarn...and that wasn't the deal...it was to save the hostages..."

Shepard noted the small gesture in Chaarn's body language.  He had to remind himself that such gestures meant everything to batarians...

Chaarn had been showing an almost lazy contempt for Ashrai.  However, as soon as Shepard had mentioned Balak, Chaarn had squared his shoulders, projecting hostile strength.  At least, that's what a batarian would see.  A more human perspective, and years of playing poker, allowed Shepard to know a bluff when he saw one.

It also helped that Shepard knew the batarian was lying, but nobody would beleive the "Butcher of Bahak" without proof.

"So, how are things with you and Balak these days?"

Ashrai chimed in, "Chaarn was disgraced, and had to beg for the auspices of any who would have him, currently Clan Akesh."

"Still better than you," snapped Chaarn, "a no-account former slave, clinging to what scraps that doddering fool feeds you."

Ashrai seemed ready to leap for Chaarn's throat.

"That fool," she spat, "is honored enemy to Admiral Balak."

Chaarn sniffed, "yes, and one who declared an honored enemy of this...human..."

Shepard noted that Chaarn hadn't mentioned the title of "Butcher."  It seemed the SPECTRE’s previous gambit had paid off.

"You will recant your insult to my daughter," said Carlan, coldly calm.

"I shall not beg forgiveness of my inferiors," replied Chaarn.

"You are fortunate your master isn't here," replied the old batarian, "as it is beneath my honor to quarrel with underlings..."

"Many old fools seek protection under such feeble excuses..."

It was then that Shepard noticed a glance from Carlan Verrad.

The man was tough as hardened leather, still in shape, and clearly able to destroy Chaarn.  In a culture that esteemed language and projection of strength, it seemed unthinkable that Carlan wouldn't simply kill Chaarn right here.  Instead, he had simply flashed a glance at Shepard, before donning a face of stone.

The SPECTRE worked out the logic.  Perhaps, as it was beneath Carlan to acknowledge Chaarn, he wouldn't allow himself to speak on Ashrai's behalf.  Perhaps the stigma against slaves and indentured servants was such that he COULDN'T.  And as Shepard's bargaining chip rested on the shoulders of Carlan's honor...

The SPECTRE cursed inwardly, reminded again of why he hated politics...combat was ever so much simpler.  Shepard stepped forward, glaring into Chaarn's eyes, which was difficult, as batarians had two pairs.

"Chaarn, I barely recall you," he began "what I do remember of you speaks volumes to your worth, or lack of it."

The Captain noted a subtle nod from Ashrai's father, and heard a few gasps from the gathered crowd.  Several of the males were grinning, and Shepard fought to ignore all the teeth.

"I won't have you insulting them," he continued, "and by extension, me, their honored enemy."

Chaarn reared back as if struck, gesturing at Ashrai, "you speak for this...filth?"

Shepard slowly leaned into the man's face, letting the open malice slip into his voice, "insult her again...and I'll end you...then Garmok can find another lackey..."

Chaarn nodded, leaning back, his lip upcurled, "very well, my master shall make the arrangements...and we shall settle this..."

As the batarian walked off, the crowd parted quickly, and several even clapped.  Shepard looked from side to side, not understanding, as he turned back to his friends.

"What have you done?" said Ashrai breathlessly, her hands covering her mouth.

"What he had to," answered Carlan.

Admiral Verrad clapped Shepard's shoulder somberly, and gestured to several aides, who quickly ushered the group into a secluded room, away from the party.

"Er...what just happened...?" demanded the SPECTRE, as he got a sinking feeling in his gut.

Ashrai shook her head again, her voice slightly panicked, "you just challened Clan Akesh to a duel!"

Shepard nodded, "oh, was that it?  I thought...WAIT WHAT?!"

They still...had those here?  Humanity had outgrown duels well before space travel.

Grunt laughed, as he clapped Shepard on the shoulder, "HAHA!!!  Well done Battlemaster, I look forward to joining you on the killing field!"

"Er, you're not allowed," explained Ashrai.

Grunt drooped, crestfallen, "well, that's no fun..."

Shepard still hadn't said anything, as Grunt began regailing Carlan with stories of their exploits on Tuchanka.

"-killed a Thresher Maw...on foot!  And don't forget all the Reapers...this will be nothing..."

The SPECTRE merely stared, dumbfounded, "Liara's going to kill me..."

The asari replied over his intercom, "not before Jack does..."

He noted her concern and worry, with a slight tinge of frustration, even anger.  Then, he realized what Liara had just told him...

"Oh shit..."


	38. Logical Fools

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 38

The Dover had been built much like its sister ship, Normandy.  Stealth drives and state of the art technology kept her sailing smoothly and out of any LADAR scans.  Still, her crew worked diligently to ensure it operated at peak efficiency.

Garrus awoke in his command quarters, dubbed "the Loft" by engineers during Normandy's reconstruction.  He groaned, rubbing his temples and flexing his muscles, going through the stretching regiment he always did when first waking.

Seated in the office terminal on the raised paddock in front of him, Tali’Zorah vas Rannoch raised an appreciative eyebrow.

"You know, Major," quipped Tali, "I daresay you're a tease..."

Vakarian smirked, as he finished and gathered his clothes, slowly putting them on, "do you dislike my lack of clothing while exercising?"

She laughed, "quite the contrary, and I certianly had no complaints last night."

The turian grinned, moving up to her, pecking her lightly on the cheek.  She closed her eyes as he began to massage her shoulders.

"Mmm, that's nice, I knew there was a reason I kept you around..."

Garrus looked at the array of documents and terminals in front of her, "how long you been at this?"

Tali shook her head, unable to shrug for Garrus' ministrations.  She enjoyed the moment a bit more, a sigh escaping her lips, before turning around.  She gestured to the readouts.

"Part of my work as an Admiral," explained Tali, "logistics and such for many of our technical initiatives."

Garrus nodded remembering, "ah yes, they put you in charge of the research and development division of the fleet."

She nodded, "well, we aren't at war currently, so they figured this would be the best use of my talents."

The turian nodded, grateful that Tali had something to do other than concern herself with battle.  They'd been getting enough of it out in the field, and he said as much.

Tali shook her head, "you're the one who's been going out alone all this time..."

It had been a source of no small amount of tension between the two of them.  Tali had lost enough people in her life; she wasn't about to lose him as well.

Garrus rested his forehead against hers, "I know...and I thank the Spirits you're here with me now..."

Tali grinned, "you should be!  Now, we both have work to do."

Vakerian nodded, "oh?"

"Miranda and I have been working with our salarian friend.  She says that they made a breakthrough last night."

He nodded slowly, "she said that to you, did she?"

She caught the look, and rolled her eyes, "we're fine Garrus, honestly..."

The SPECTRE shrugged.  He had no personal gripes with Lawson either.  They were both consummate professionals, and had saved each others' lives plenty of times before.

"Still, doesn't mean you have to work well together, you let me know if-"

"Garrus," interjected Tali, "we survived the Collector Base as a team, remember?  We overcame our gripes back then.  I doubt we'll be drinking mates, but I trust her."

Vakerian arched an eyebrow, considering her logic, "I suppose I can understand that.  So, dinner tonight?"

"If we aren't out fighting Remnant in the trenches," sniffed Tali.

It was a very real possibility.  They were being called to the planet of Lesuss for a reason, after all.  It seemed that the Remnant were threatening the asari border worlds.  Many of the Special Forces had been drawn into the conflict.  Compounded by skirmishes with batarian and vorcha slavers, the asari were at their limit.

The attacks were affecting the asari responsibility to protect the hanar and elcor homeworlds, which was a cause of further diplomatic strain.  They needed to resolve the Lesuss affair, to free asari forces for other incursions.

"Major," came Steve Cortez’s voice over the intercom, "we're a few jumps from the Athena Nebula, which puts us at the asari border worlds in a few hours."

"Keep me posted Cortez," replied Garrus, "I'll be conferring with XO Lawson."

Garrus kissed Tali on the neck before dressing and heading to the elevator.  There was a lot of work to do before their mission on Lesuss; and it wouldn’t get any easier moving forward.

***************************

In the medbay of the Dover, Miranda Lawson was rubbing the space between her eyes, massaging away the headache that refused to go away.

"So let me get this straight," she said, "you've been having regular 'conversations' with Shade?"

Seated across from her, Kasumi was dangling her legs off a medical cot.  Leaning back self-contentedly, she nodded.

"Yep, she and I have been trading info back and forth ever since Omega."

Miranda shook her head, "come again...Shade is a woman?"

Kasumi shrugged, "seems so, just the way she speaks."

"...You've spoken with Shade enough to get that much a read?"

"As you are aware," Goto nodded, "one forms quick impressions in intelligence work.  I just read Shade as a woman."

Lawson pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head, "I don't know whether to be thankful or afraid.  You are friends with the most elusive intelligence asset in history; someone who's eluded Liara's, Aria's, and my own security networks.

Nearby stood the salarian STG scientist, Padok Wiks.  He was currently sifting through screen after screen of data on his holovid.  Even for Miranda, the images moved impossibly fast.  She looked away, lest her headache become a migraine.

"Probably just as well," said the salarian, "without Ms. Goto's input, I would not have been able to decipher these readings from this 'Corporal Toombs.'"

Indeed, after several correspondences, Miranda had come to Kasumi.  Kasumi had done a good job of encrypting and scrubbing her feeds, but Lawson was a professional, and curious by nature.  Eventually, Kasumi had caved in, sharing her connection with the mysterious Shade.

What had surprised them all, however, was how Kasumi had broken through the encryption of the messages that Shade sent.  They were just as advanced as the protocols apparent in the data packets recovered from Toombs’ transmission.  However, Miranda recalled the mission to Bekenstein, when Shepard and Kasumi had single handedly toppled the empire of the infamous contraband dealer, Donovan Hock.

Hock had killed Kasumi's friend and lover, Keiji Okuda, gutting his brain for the "graybox" within.  It was priceless, a computer repository containing a lifetime of secrets and classified intel.  Kasumi wanted revenge for the butchering of her friend, the graybox was an added bonus.  The former theif swore it was the other way around, though she wasn't fooling anyone.

However, the graybox also contained other secrets, all accumulated data concerning Shepard's battle against the Reapers.  Unfortunately, no one had acted on the data in time, and the Reaper War had engulfed the galaxy.  However, the data still remained, as Kasumi had integrated Keiji's graybox into her own.

Somehow, this had allowed her to read and decrypt lines of code that nobody had been able to crack.  She could even read Reaper and Prothean codes, given enough time to hack the security.  As such, the last several days had been nonstop for several of the crew.  Between Miranda, Padok Wiks, Tali, and Revenant, the Dover had a proverbial think tank, and Kasumi's knowledge was yet another key element.

Garrus Vakerian walked in, nodding to the three individuals, who nodded back.  Miranda even straightened her back, offering a small salute.  Kasumi could never be bothered, and Wiks was engulfed in his work.

The turian smirked.  He never stood on ceremony, so long as the crew respected his lead, which they did.  Still, he curtly nodded back to Miranda, acknowledging her efforts to keep their relationship professional.  It was awkward to be in command of a ship of so many disparate organizations, but Garrus was adaptable, as ever.  He could scarcely think of any others he'd have chosen to work with, barring the old crew on the Normandy.

"So," he said, "where are we?"

Miranda gestured to Kasumi, "thanks to Ms. Goto's correspondences with Shade, we've managed to decrypt some of the data we recieved from Corporal Toombs."

Vakerian nodded, gesturing for them to continue.  Lawson gestured to Wiks.  The salarian nodded, as he cycled through the screens on the holovid before him.

"Even with Ms. Goto's knowledge," explained the salarian, "the team had problems deciphering the data.  It wasn't until Liara's team forwarded us the decrypted data from Feros that things began to fall into place."

"So they're connected, these attacks?" asked Garrus.

Miranda nodded, "the key phrase, 'Paladin,' it's not a person, it a group."

Padok Wiks continued, "until now, we had assumed that Ms. Lawson's Orthos had recruited or arrested all former Cerberus assets."

"It seems," explained Miranda, "that someone's been hiring up the ones that fell through the cracks."

"We expected as much," remarked Garrus, "so what's so special about the 'Paladins?'"

"They've also been recruiting other agencies," answered the salarian, "in fact...Eclipse salarian mercs...batarians and vorcha from the Blood Pack...any of this sound familiar?"

Garrus shook his head.  So the mercs they'd fought on Omega weren't simply traitors to Aria T'Loak, they'd formed a cabal with others as well.  It was a terrifying prospect, but something didn't make since.

"Cerberus was pro-humanity, why would they ally with these 'alien' organizations?"

Miranda nodded, "mmm, remember, these are intelligence assets masquerading as mercs.  We can't know their motivations, besides..."

"We still haven't sifted through the data," offered Kasumi, "there's something bringing the badguys together, but we don't know what yet.  In fact, we're pretty sure it goes further than just batarian and salarian interests."

"Any connection to the quarian disappearances?" asked Garrus.

"Not yet," answered Miranda, "but what concerns me is how they are controlling the Remnant."

The room went silent.  The batarians and salarians were in bed with former Cerberus agents, which was bad enough.  Any other players with enough clout to operate on par with Karshaan and the Salarian STG were likely dead.  But whoever was pulling the strings, they were also controlling the Remnant, or at least herding them like animals.  This meant there were people out there on friendly terms with Reaper tech, and willing to play with it.  The thought was less than comforting.

"Do we know the players yet?" asked Garrus.

Miranda shook her head, "they've covered their tracks well, though it stands to reason a human would be in control of the Ceberus dregs.  That puts us at three masterminds at least, and all likely within the political hierarchies.”

“I have narrowed the list of possible traitors in the Dalatrassy,” added Padok Wiks, “but these people own the STG, and our evidence is circumstantial.”

"Which means we can't act without more proof," groaned Vakerian, "for fear of tipping off the traitors."

"Or suffering political backlash," reasoned Miranda.

Garrus shook his head again.  He hated politics...

"Which reminds me, we're coming up on Lesuss, hobnobbing with some delegates on the space station in orbit around the asari colony."

"You decided on a team yet?" asked Miranda.

He nodded, "I'll need diplomats, so it's you, Elana, and Tali for now."

"We'll suit up and meet you at the airlock," she answered.

Garrus nodded, turning to leave…

************************

Dr. Michel and Kelly were currently sitting in the common eating area of the Dover, nursing mugs of coffee.

Elana Pytar leaned against a nearby bulkhead, nursing a glass of something harder, “sure you’ll have none, doctor?”

Michel shook her head, “I tend to avoid alcohol, even while off-duty.”

“No telling when you’ll have to sign back on?” offered Kelly.

“Life of a physician,” agreed Michel, “frankly, I’m surprised to see you indulging, even while off-duty.”

“My turian nature, I suppose,” Elana shrugged, “we are expected to work hard; nearly anything goes out of combat, so long as we are ready when it’s time for battle.”

Kelly nodded, “I heard as much, is it true that you and Garrus actually fought each other in between missions?”

Pytar grinned, “well, it was an excellent stress relief.”

“Is that what you called it?” Kelly teased, “I’ve heard the stories.”

Michel blinked, astounded at Chambers’ fearlessness.

Elana swirled her drink, “well, there are multiple ways to relieve stress…but that was long ago…”

Michel didn’t reply, glancing listlessly as she saw Major Vakerian saunter onto the deck, making his way out from the medbay.  The doctor saw the knowing glance from Elana, who openly grinned at her.  Michel cleared her throat, looking down into her cup.

“Well, no harm in looking, every now and then,” suggested Elana.

Kelly stifled her grin and took another sip, while Michel firmly decided that the most interesting thing in the universe currently resided in the bottom of her mug.

“Er,” Michel cleared her throat, “I suppose I will have a bit of that alcohol…”

************************

Garrus didn't have to tell his crew to be careful; they all knew the stakes.  Still, the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach wouldn't go away.  A catastrophe was brewing, and they needed to work fast to have any hope of stopping it.  Lost in thought, Garrus almost bumped into the familiar looking geth aboard his ship.

"Sorry Revenant," he grunted, making his way to the elevator.

The geth shook his head, "it is alright, Vakerian-Major."

Garrus had to grin, still getting used to the small displays of emotion the geth were beginning to exhibit.

"So remind me," he asked, "how did you first meet Tali and Kasumi?"

The light on Revenant's head flashed for a moment, dilating like a pupil.  Garrus now recognized the affectation meant the geth was thinking.  Revenant hesitated a moment before answering.

"Actually, this unit has served previously with Normandy, back during the assault on the Collector Base."

Garrus blinked for several moments, letting the words sink in, "you mean...you're Legion?!  Why didn't you tell us?"

He didn't know how to describe it, but the turian was pleased.  It had been strange, making friends with a geth, after years of war.  Still, Legion had saved all their lives on numerous occassions, then sacrificed his own, helping to forge a peace that had been crucial in defeating the Reapers.

"I am not Legion," explained Revenant, "the unit you are referring to made a backup of his processes shortly after returning to the Geth Consensus.  After he died in the Reaper War, I assumed control of his assets, helping with the defense of the Crucible and the reconstruction of Rannoch."

Garrus shook his head, "I still don't understand.  If you remember all those things, how can you not be Legion?"

Revenant pondered again, his glowlight dilating once more, "consider if you went back in time to before the Reaper war, and met yourself.  Would you be the same person?"

Vakerian reflected on this.  Technically, he was the same.  But the Garrus of today had nearly a decade of memories and emotions that had shaped him into something different.  Strictly speaking, Garrus couldn't say the turian he was so long ago would behave in the same way.

"I see your point," he replied, "so I suppose you could say you're...Legion's little brother?"

The geth went silent again, thinking, "it is not quite the same, Legion had attained a level of consciousness I yet aspire to.  In deference to his sacrifice, I cannot call myself Legion."

"The geth are growing as a culture," explained Garrus, "I wouldn’t have said this ten years ago, but you have to consider your rights as a living being.  For all intents and purposes, Legion was your family."

"By that logic, all geth are family.  Though some could be considered more closely related.  Wouldn’t most species deem this line of reasoning as foolish?"

"I think it’s a nice sentiment," the SPECTRE answered, "all the races should learn to think like that."

Revenant pondered for a moment, “then we hope that organic wisdom can learn from synthetic foolishness."

Garrus narrowed his eyes as the plates around Revenant's light socket twitched.  He realized that the geth had just attempted a joke.

He laughed, "there's hope for all of us yet.  For now, we have a mission."

The geth saluted Garrus, as the turian made his way to the bridge, a smirk still on his face…


	39. Gladiator

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 39

Shepard sat on a bench in an abandoned hallway.  The walls seemed to be made of red sandstone, and artificial sunlight peeked through the slats along the cieling.  The SPECTRE could hear the roars of a cheering croud, muffled by the layers of masonry.  He felt like a gladiator...preparing to face his death.  Shepard tightened his hand into a fist, to keep it from shaking.

He laughed.

"You ready?" came a voice over the intercom in his ear...it was Jack.

Shepard shook his head.  He had faced extermination before, he'd courted death more than once.  To be certain, he had joined in many a wargame as well.  Crichton unclenched his fist, looking at his hand, now steady.  Once again he tried, and failed, to hear the whir of motors.

"I feel like a damn circus freak...I've never killed for sport... "

Jack draw a sharp breath, "are you...nervous?"

His nostrils flared, "no...I'm pissed off...what the Hell is this, Ancient Rome?"

Ashrai drew up to him, sitting in a bench across from Shepard, "it isn't one of our more...admiral social constructs..."

Shepard glanced up at her, and shook his head, "every society has aspects that we are ashamed of, if we’re smart."

"Use it," offered Jack, "get angry, kill any fucker that gets in your way!  You got the knife?"

He looked down at his boot, drawing the blade.  It had been torment, being unable to see her before the duel.  So Jack had settled to speaking with him for the past hour, making sure to recount her experiences from her time in the arenas of her youth.

"Thanks...apparently no guns are allowed here..."

"Just make sure you bring it back to me," replied Jack, her voice catching slightly, "you'd better...bring it-"

"I will," he sighed, blinking and massaging his neck, "Liara...how are things on your end?"

The asari's voice replied over his earpiece, "I was able to infiltrate their network, thanks to your work at the party."

Shepard sniffed; he hadn't done much.  The omnitool in his arm had acted as a relay, and tech had done the rest.  It was the “Shadow Broker” that had done the actual hacking.  Aside from getting caught in this deathmatch, he'd done precious little of note.

 Liara had offered assurances that there were people in place, should the worst happen.  Still, he couldn't be sure, if he died...all prospects of peace died with him.

"Don't think like that," said Ashrai, gripping his hands.

The SPECTRE looked at her questioningly.  Had he said that aloud?

She shook her head, "I know the look...you'll be fine...you have to be...now...I'll need to..."

She tapped her ear.  The only tech allowed in the battle would be his amps and armor, no guns or gear.  Shepard nodded, taking the earpiece out, but not before a few final words.

"Alright you two...wish me luck... "

" I'll see you soon," said Liara, "this isn't goodbye."

"Damn straight you asshole," continued Jack, "you're taking me out on a date after this..."

Shepard removed the earpiece, handing it to Ashrai, "where's Grunt?"

She shook her head, "manhandled a few gaurds.  I appealed to your sense of honor, and he finally agreed to sit in our booth."

Ashrai placed the comm in her ear, "alright Liara, anything you need to say, Grunt or myself are ready."

Shepard couldn't hear the conversation anymore, but he caught a stone-faced expression from the batarian.  Jack was likely giving her a dressing down.  He laughed despite himself.

Ashrai smiled at him as well, "are you ready?"

Shepard nodded, making his way to the arena sands…

*********************

Urdnot Grunt was seated in a large booth.  The only others with him were Ashrai and Carlan.  As the krogan looked around, he thought the scene familiar.  On his homeworld of Tuchanka, the colloseums were great stone and metal testaments to warriors, the gleaming sun baking the sands below.

To be fair, however, his own rite of passage hadn't had quite so many...spectators.  Thousands of batarians crowded the seats.  Bright neon lights shone throughout the stands, which sold clothes or weapons or food.  Above, a giant dome light shone down, almost blinding the view of space beyond.

Grunt had to recall that he was on a space station, despite the quarian developments that made it seem like they were on a planet.  The krogan recalled the term "hyrdoponics," amongst others, but he cared little for such things.

He shook his head, "I should be down there..."

Ashrai sighed.  It had taken every ounce of her mental acumen, and not a little bit of strong-arming, to convince the krogan to stay here, for appearances sake.  She couldn't deny, however, that she understood the feeling.  Shepard would be fighting because of her, because of her Clan's honor.  Ashrai grit her teeth, cursing the stupidity of their adversaries.  What use was honor against the mountains of corpses left behind by their folly?

“It’s bad enough,” said Carlan, “Akesh is going to be finding ways to cheat the system anyway, let’s not give them any more reason to challenge Shepard’s honor.”

The krogan growled, “let them!  My Battlemaster-“

His reply was drowned out by fanfare.  Grunt’s translators missed a few of the speeches, but he knew a presentation when he saw one.

“I hope he’s up to the task,” whispered Carlan, a note of concern in his voice.

The krogan merely grinned, “these Pyjacks won’t even be a footnote…”

**********************

The Butcher of Bahak, as Shepard was called, did not hear the announcements, and paid no heed to the fanfare.  He had to tell himself that this was like any other battle in his life.  This wasn't for sport, this was for honor...but more importantly, the honor of his hosts...and all hope of peace.

Shepard calmly stepped out onto the sands, clad in the black armor he was famous for, a single line of red adorning the side of one arm.  The SPECTRE noted a few weapons strewn across the field, spears, staffs, swords.  He laughed, truly feeling as if he had stepped back in time, to an ancient era before space travel.

As he looked through the stands, he saw the crowds of batarians behind the walls and caged barriers.  A sea of four-eyed aliens roared back at him.  Shepard noted a unique mixture of cheers, as well as jeers.  It seemed he wasn't completely reviled...though that all depended on the next few minutes.

As he glanced to the heavens, Shepard saw the glimmer of the stars instead of sky.  Well, this certainly wasn't ancient Earth; that was for sure.  Another fanfare assaulted the arena, though Shepard heard nothing.  Instead, he focused on the opening gates across from him.

As Ashrai caught sight of Shepard's foe, she cursed, "damn Akesh...what are they thinking?"

Grunt blinked, not understanding, "is this an insult?  What kind of enemy is THAT?!"

Carlan sniffed, bringing a hand to his chin, "let's see what he makes of it..."

********************************

Shepard glanced across the field at a lone drell, clad in dull red armor, a knife in either hand.  Though Shepard had only seen him once, he knew this was the unfortunate waiter who had attended them at the party the night before.  This was likely punishment of some sort.  The SPECTRE shook his head, what kind of challenge was this supposed to be?  Akesh couldn't possibly be pinning their hopes on this slave.

Then something clicked in his mind…

Shepard said nothing, waiting for the alarm to ring, signalling the start of combat.  The human stretched, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet.  As the claxon blared, Shepard ran for the drell as fast has his muscles would allow.  His opponent snapped back, as if slapped in the face, clearly not expecting the rush.  Throwing a series of biotic blasts, the drell peppered the air before Shepard.

However, Shepard wasn't in front of him anymore, neatly sidestepping the attack.  The SPECTRE smashed his fist into the drell's neck, striking the cluster of nerves along the enemy's spine.  Shepard then slid his leg behind the drell, grabbing him by the throat and taking him down to the ground.  The human braced his leg against the slave's wrist, locking the other with his right hand.  As he leaned on the drell's chest, Shepard dug into the throat with his free hand.

"Don't move," said Shepard, with a light grunt.

The drell merely blinked, astounded by the turn of events.  He then realized what Shepard had done.  A natural reaction for the drell would be to puff out his neck, fighting against the chokehold.  However, if he did that, Shepard would rip out his throat.

The slave wheezed, "someone...taught you our ways..."

The human had moved like a master craftsman, an artist of death.  Though many drell were adept at combat, few knew the old ways, as this human clearly did.

Shepard nodded, remembering Thane Krios, "an old friend I used to spar with."

He glanced up at the rafters, until he saw the architect of this fracas.

Crichton yelled as loud as he could, though he knew the speakers would amplify his voice, "is this the best you've got Akesh?!  What am I supposed to do with this one?"

In his booth, the batarian lord was stricken silent.  Beside him, Chaarn hissed, trying to rouse Garmok.

"He didn't fall for it," cursed Chaarn.

Garmok rose to his feet, shaking his fist, "that whelp?  Do what you will!  He deserves no honor on the sands, and neither do you!"

Shepard heard jeers, as well as calls for death, but he glanced instead to Carlan's booth.

"I won't stain my hands with this.  CLAN VERRAD!  Can you turn this one into an able servant and warrior!?"

As if on queue, the old Admiral stood proudly, "aye!  And what's more, we'll give him a bath, to wipe away that Akesh stink!"

The audience loved the theatrics, beginning to laugh and applaud.  The older batarian sank into his chair, relieved.  He turned to Ashrai, then to Grunt.

"Your Battlemaster is as shrewd as his is strong," said Carlan, "he easily saw through Akesh's ruse."

The death of a common slave would have brought honor to no one, and would have simply shamed them, weakening their position.  Shepard was unused to dealing with such nuances, but knew he had made the right choice when he heard the widespread cheering from the stands

He could almost see the red in Garmok's seething face, and decided to twist the barb, "in such company, he'll garner enough honor to eclipse his former masters!"

Shepard rose, offering his hand to the prone figure beneath him.

The drell could scarcely beleive it, and took the SPECTRE's hand, "you know they'll send another because of this...my death would have bought you this battle..."

The captain shrugged, "no, not really...and besides, I came for a challenge..."

The drell laughed, "then I pledge my life to you."

Shepard clapped the young lad on the shoulders, "just stay alive through this, and pay it forward to your new Clan..."

********************

Grunt began to laugh, as Ashrai explained the maneuvering Shepard had just done.  Not only had he saved face, he had made a case for Ashrai herself, a former slave who'd won glory.

"Well that's just common sense," said the krogan, "if you'd been around him longer, you'd know that.  Now who's this one?"

Ashrai's breath caught, as she saw the next combatant.  Furthremore, as Shepard had made an ally of the drell, he would face two more rounds in the Arena.

She turned to her father, "they can't be serious!"

He nodded, "it is irregular, though within their rights...I told you they would cheat."

As a new figure stomped onto the field, Grunt reared back, recognizing the ritual paint on its armor.

"What the hell is a krogan of Clan Weyrloc doing here?" he growled.

Once opposed to Urdnot rule on Tuchanka, the heretic Clan Weyrloc had been all but destroyed by Grunt and Shepard.  They had performed horrific experiments on their own people, all in a pursuit for power.  Their destruction had garned much acclaim for Crichton, as well as Clan Urdnot.

It seemed, however, that one had escaped, seeking glory in a mercenary life.  Taking his defunct Clan’s name as his own, this krogan outcast had carved a legacy as a lapdog to his batarian retainers.

Grunt shook his head, “pathetic…”

Ashrai clenched her fists, “you don’t understand, Weyrloc is unrivaled in the arena…none can withstand him!”

“He is nothing,” affirmed Grunt, “you’ll see…”

******************

Shepard looked away from the krogan, while Weyrloc gestured to the roaring crowd.

"How good are your biotics?" he asked.

"I can push and pull," replied the drell, "I could charge as well, but that won't do much good against him..."

The SPECTRE could see the color draining from the youth's face.  It was impressive, considering the drell had green skin.  He clapped his comrade on the shoulder.

"Don't worry, just follow my lead," offered Shepard, explaining his plan.

*****************************

The krogan known simply as "Weyrloc" had once enjoyed status with his clan on Tuchanka.  Then the upstart Wrex had come, forging an alliance with the humans.  It had seemed impossible, but the weak humans had produced one such as Shepard, a being capable of taking down a thresher maw on foot.  Not content to laying waste to tradition, the bastard had then destroyed the ambition and future of Clan Weyrloc.

It was time for redemption…

Weyrloc roared at the top of his lungs, all four of them, and he brandished his twin axes.  The howl lasted long, reverberating off the walls, seeming fit to shake the arena to its foundations.

"I WILL FEAST ON YOUR BLOOD...HUMAN!!!"

Shepard narrowed his eyes, dashing into a sprint almost before the starting bell had rung.  As he rushed forward, the SPECTRE tapped into his enhanced adrenaline reserves, straining his reflexes to the limit.  He shot a biotic warp at the krogan, his speed carrying into the attack.

The drell blinked, surprised at Shepard's speed.  Somehow, the human was even faster than he had been before.  The force with which Shepard launched his biotic attack was astounding.

However, the lad remembered Shepard's plan, and as soon as he saw the Warp, the drell attacked with a biotic push, detonating the attack.  The surging biotic forces exploded in the krogan's face, blinding Weyrloc.

Still surging ahead, Shepard tucked and rolled, slipping beneath Weyrloc's blind punch.  He then snatched the knife from his boot holster, whipping it around as he came to his feet.  Using his enhaned strength, Shepard jammed the blade all the way up to the hilt, slipping it underneath the plates of Weyrloc's hump.  It was an old trick he had learned from Zaeed Messani, and it worked.

Almost immediately, the krogan fell to his knees, leaning backwards to protect his spine, "NO...DON'T!"

The move would have been impossible with a flimsy knife, Shepard would have to thank Jack properly.

"You give up?" asked Shepard.

A glint of raw hatred gleamed in the mad krogan's eyes, "DAMN YOUUU!!!"

As Weyrlock grabbed for his axes, Shepard jerked his arm, cracking spine, and cleaving an entire section of shell off the krogan's hump.

***************

Ashrai winced in shock, as she saw the once-invincible titan twitching on the sands.  Weyrloc's legacy had been earned over years of battle.  He'd made a name for himself, even after the Reaper War.  Indeed, many a batarian had made their fortunes in the arena off of his battles.  Now, blood pooled around Weyrloc, a lone human standing triumphant before the dying krogan.

"It was over so quickly..." she whispered.

Even Grunt twitched momentarily, as if the sight had jarred him somewhat, "I told you...though I'll have to ask Battlemaster where he learned that one..."

***************

Shepard didn't like to boast.  Though he didn't shy away from killing, he certainly didn't enjoy making a spectacle of it.  Still, he needed to play to the crowd, so he raised his hands to the furious applause.  The crowd lapped it up, their excitement rising to fever pitch.

"Who's next?" demanded Shepard, "what dregs does Clan Akesh have for me now?  Let's be done with this farce!"

Garmok was beside himself with rage.  Was Shepard even human?  How in the Maker's name had he dispatched the champion of the arena so quickly?  Still, it mattered not.  Akesh had one more champion, and this one would have replaced Weyrloc soon enough.

"Very well," said Garmok, sneering at Shepard, "let me present my final combatant...one which I assure will challenge you!"

He gestured to the crowd, "my people, let us now see this pretender fall to his rightful place...as I present a truly peerless warrior!"

The gates across from Shepard groaned and creaked, and he heard a familiar roar from behind them, echoing through the hall.

'Oh damn,' he thought, feeling a sinking sense of recollection.

Dust billowed forth, as a hulking monstrosity lurched from the confines of the pens below.

"My people!" continued Garmok, "a gift from Clan Akesh...one liberated from border wars.  No longer a secret weapon against our people...now it will honor our arenas!"

Shepard waited for the dust to clear, and saw a mammoth of a figure, over twelve feet tall.  Thick claws jutted from its feet; its meaty fists were large enough to crush the skull of a krogan.  Its maw was three large slits, which barely covered a forest of teeth within.

"I present...the ultimate specimen," finished Garmok, "I present...the YAHG!"

Chricton shook his head, spitting out the bile in his throat from his previous exertions.

The drell drew beside him, his voice a squeak, "you ever fought one of those before?"

Shepard's eye twitched, as he nodded dully.

"How'd you beat it?"

"By cheating..."

The young drell looked at the hulking monster, and fought to control his bladder, "Kalahira...save us..."


	40. Dropping the Hammer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 40

Shepard dodged to the side again, as the giant Yahg before him surged past like a freight train.  He shook his head.  In the first fight, Thane's advice had served him well.  In the second fight, an old trick of Zaeed's had been useful.  What the hell was he going to do against THIS?!

It was like felling a damn tree, and all he had were his bare hands and biotics, which wouldn't work.  The thought brought to memory a story from an old friend, Kaidan Alenko, who had been born in Canada, on Earth.  A sadistic grin plastered Shepard's features, as he gestured to the drell behind him.

"I'll take this one," he grunted, "just make sure you keep out of range, and distract him with your biotics."

***********************

In the booth, Grunt frothed with rage, "what the hell are they doing with one of those?!"

Ashrai shook her head, "the Yahg are banned from off-world transport, even the Reapers left them alone!"

Apparently, Clan Akesh didn't care, or at least had a good enough alibi for it.  However, there were more pressing matters at hand.

"Grunt!" shouted Liara over his intercom, "we have a problem!"

"You're telling me," griped the krogan, "I'm missing out on all the fun!"

"Not that!" shrieked the asari, "I've caught comm-chatter...there's a sniper in the audience!"

Grunt rose to his haunches, eyes scanning the crowd, "they after Shepard?"

"Must be," remarked Ashrai, "where’s the shooter?"

"I don't know," replied Liara, "my sources are bogged down by the crowd.  My best guess is up in the rafters, so you'll have to fan out."

Grunt nodded, gesturing to Ashrai, "you go clockwise, I'll go up top and look."

Carlan gestured to several aides, "help them!  If Shepard dies, our Clan is finished, and so are our chances at peace!"

***********************

On the killing sands, Shepard weaved around the swipes of the Yahg, lithely dodging past the attacks.  Sometime over the course of the fight, the SPECTRE had picked up a long metal staff.  Every time he side-stepped an attack, Shepard would slam the rod into the left side of the Yahg's neck.

Before the beast could grab the staff, Shepard would pull back.  It didn't visibly damage the beast, but Shepard had managed to avoid all attacks as well.  The SPECTRE's blows came one after another, always on the same side of the Yahg's neck.

The drell behind Shepard was straining to keep up with the pace of the battle, as the human kept darting almost too fast to track.  Occasionally he would strike with a biotic push, keeping the hulk off balance for Shepard’s attacks.

The plan had kept them alive, to the cheer and delight of the roaring crowds.  However, he didn’t see how Shepard would pull a victory from this.  One mistake, and they would be dead.

Shepard ignored the burning in his muscles.  He hadn’t let up on the surge of adrenaline ever since the battle had started, lending all his speed and strength into the strikes of his staff.  He needed to end this soon, before his body finally gave out.

It was almost time, but not yet…

***********************

“Not yet!” Grunt cursed, "have you found anyone Ashrai?”

They had been searching almost since the start of Shepard’s final bout, but still could find no sign of the assassin.

Ashrai shook her head, “Liara, do you have any suggestions?”

“You both are on opposite sides of the arena, yes?” asked the asari.

“Affirmative,” replied Grunt, “we’ve covered the whole the whole damn area, can you send the others?”

“No time,” explained Liara, “stand back and turn on your omnitools, I want a wide vid scan of the entire arena.”

Ashrai nodded, motioning for her aides to continue the search, as she moved back.  Grunt did the same…

In her office on the Normandy, Liara downloaded the video footage of the Arena, and began to process the raw data through her computers.

Jack stopped pacing back and forth, collapsing into the nearby bed, groaning in anger, “I knew we should have gone with him!”

“We’d only slow him down,” reasoned Liara, “this was the only play.”

“Fuck the politics,” Jack clenched her fists, “dying will slow him down a lot more!”

Liara smirked despite herself, “I don’t know, this IS Shepard, after all…”

Jack groaned, then saw a strange flicker on the screen, “hey, what’s THAT?”

T’Soni had noticed the dot as well, a bright discoloration on the screen, like a sphere of sunlight.

“Odd, no amount of visual processing can clear it up.  And I only picked it up after cycling through several wavelengths.  Active camoflauge!”

“That’s got to be it,” said Jack, “upper rafters, a few rows above Grunt.”

“Copy that,” growled the krogan, “I’ve been waiting to kill something.”

**************************

Over the intercom, Grunt heard Jack’s reply, “give the bastards one for me!”

He leapt through the crowd, bounding the stairs several steps with each leap.  Several batarians were jostled in the rush, a few even began to protest.  However, the sight of a krogan with a purposeful glare was enough to dissuade opposition.

“Ashrai, head back to your father, make sure he’s secure,” suggested Liara, “Grunt, I’ll channel my feed to your optic interface.”

Grunt tapped a command in his omnitool, and a display appeared over his eyes, filtering out the wavelengths that Liara had used to find the anomaly…

He only had a pistol, but that was more than enough.  Grunt slowed his steps as he reached the top row of the arena.  Bannisters and brackets separated the scaffolding above, which eventually led up to the dome.  Grunt wasn’t going that far, instead making way for the skybox that crested this area of the colloseum.

Looking back down, Grunt could still see the figures of Shepard and the drell dodging around the yahg.  The krogan had to admit, his Battlemaster was showing quite a bit of patience.  By now, Grunt would have bullrushed the brute.  He was interested in seeing how Shepard would finish the job, but there was no time.

Grunt was just grateful for something to do.  He noticed there were no guards posted here, which seemed strange to him.  Skyboxes meant important people, and that warranted gaurds.  If someone was in there, they didn’t want to be seen.  He drew his pistol, easing up to the door of the skybox.

He closed his eyes for a few moments, breathing calmly, letting his pupils adjust to the lower light that would dominate the darkened room beyond.  The krogan slowly sauntered into the room, straining his muscles to move quietly.  As he entered the room, Grunt noticed a faint shimmer against the windows of the skybox…the telltale signs of a stealth cloak.

A muffled voice issued from a speaker nearby, “very well, take the shot…”

Without preamble, Grunt drew his pistol and started firing…

*********************

Shepard had been fighting for what felt like hours.  With the time dilation incurred from the constant abuse of his augmentations, it was no surprise.  He wouldn’t last, he had to end it now.

The SPECTRE ducked as the drell behind him launched one more biotic attack, staggering the yahg before him.  For the first time since he’d started his battle, Shepard followed with a biotic Push of his own.  The conflux of biotic energies exploded, blinding the tall alien.

Shepard used the brief window of opportunity to slam his staff one final time, his body beginning to give out from the exertion of his amps.  Instead of hitting the left side of the yahg’s neck, however, Shepard struck the right.  It was just like Kaidan had told him, all those years ago, about loggers in the forests…take an axe to one side of the trunk, then knock it over from the other side.

The effect was not largely different, as Shepard brought the rod barreling down on the yahg’s weakened neck.  The sudden brunt force trauma was compounded by the slow, steady strikes that Shepard had built up to this point.  With the muscles too fatigued to support it, the yahg’s neck snapped like a twig.  It roared in agony, falling to its knees, immobile.

The crowd’s roar positively shook the foundations of the arena.  None had ever seen a battle like this.  The yahg were so brutal, their homeworld was quarantined.  Somehow Shepard, a lone human, had managed to take one down, with nothing but a metal bar and a slave to help him.

In his booth, Garmok rose to his feet, hissing his rage.  His sneer warped his face, as he sputtered, unable to speak.  Chaarn slowly receded; again swearing that Garmok’s eyes glowed red, seeming fit to burn a hole through the air itself.

“What the hell…IS HE EVEN HUMAN!?” demanded the leader of Clan Akesh, “take that bastard down!!!”

Chaarn finally replied, “master, we were supposed to shoot the yahg, making it seem as if Shepard was cheating…”

“I don’t care!” screamed the batarian General, “the yahg will die in a moment anyway…we can claim it was an accident…TAKE THE DAMN SHOT!”

Chaarn sighed in reply, tapping into his commlink, “very well…take the shot.”

*******************

Shepard’s vision was blurry, and his body was a wreck.  He felt as if he’d swum for days.  Considering how long he’d been abusing his Adrenaline Rush, it was probably an apt comparison.  The drell before him clapped him on the shoulder, but he couldn’t hear anything over the roar of the crowd.

Ribbons of cloth and confetti were raining down upon the sands, as if marking a grand celebration.  Shepard just hoped it was worth it.  Suddenly, he caught a glimmer shining from atop the rafters.  His instinct kicked in, and he pushed the young drell to the ground.

He saw the mirrored glass of a skybox crack, and felt a sudden jolt as a sniper’s bullet whizzed by.  His movement, however, saved him, and the round passed through his shoulder rather than his head, spinning him about.  Shepard had enough presence of mind to drop flat against the ground, as another sniper’s round caved in the skull of the paralyzed yahg.

Shepard glanced up at the skybox, knowing he’d never be able to evade a third shot.  However, he was greeted with a strange sight…

 

The windows of the skybox shattered outwards into the crowd.  Grunt came flying out the opening, his fists wrapped around the throat of the salarian sniper.  With a wrathful cry, Grunt clenched his hands, snapping his foe’s neck.

Had the sniper managed to survive that, he’d never have survived what came next, as Grunt used the salarian’s body to break his fall.  They landed amidst a crowd, and the krogan heard several snaps issue from the dead sniper’s body.

He immediately rose to his feet, looking down into the arena stands, “SHEPARD!?”

The SPECTRE grinned, blood leaking from the corners of his mouth, but he managed to issue a “thumbs up”, before collapsing.  The young drell beside him draped Shepard’s arm about his shoulders, and began to carry the human to the nearest gate.

Pure pandemonium erupted throughout the arena, as a battalion of guards surrounded Grunt.  He looked back and forth, and slowly raised his hands.

Soon enough, Ashrai was by his side, “hold!  Allow the Ambassador to pass!  He stopped an assassination attempt!”

The guards looked back at Ashrai, not moving.

She glared back at them, “I’ve managed to secure my father…no thanks to you…do your duty, and help me secure the delegate from Tuchanka.”

The gaurds looked back and forth amongst each other.  None of them wanted to do battle with a krogan, nor an admiral’s daughter.

“They aren’t paying me enough for this,” remarked one of the guards, “take him and go.  Don’t leave this station, or the witch hunt will get worse…”

Ashrai nodded, as she led Grunt away from the scene.  With the rush of the crowd, all clamoring to get out, it ended up being the krogan who led her instead.  Grunt lifted Ashrai into his arms, as he barreled his way through the arena, “where to?”

“Back to Clan Verrad territory,” she replied, “father has sent others to get Shepard.”

“He was shot,” said Grunt, equally mad and concerned, “where is he?!”

“We’ll help him,” promised Ashrai, “but we need to get him to safety first…”

Grunt nodded.  They didn’t know where Shepard was from where they stood; he’d just have to trust in Carlan’s security forces.

*****************************

Ashrai hadn’t waited for a driver, jetting through the streets in her skycab, Grunt in tow.  They had both wanted to wait for Shepard, but her father had insisted they make it to safety.  Carlan would get Shepard himself.

They soon arrived at Clan Verrad’s estate.  The house was a maelstrom of movement, as attendants and bodyguards filed about.  They were all trying to make sense of the mayhem at the arena.

Ashrai could understand, finally taking a moment to catch her breath.  She pulled aside a servant.

“Where is my father?” she asked.

The young batarian woman shook her head, “Lord Carlan hasn’t yet arrived!  His caravan approaches under duress as we speak!”

“What?!” she demanded in reply.

“Here they come!” shouted Grunt, pointing at the cityline.

A hovercraft quickly approached, flying unsteadily.  It landed with a thud on the grounds outside the entrance, and jarred to a halt.  The young drell from Shepard’s arena battle opened the door, gesturing to the gaurds inside the building.

A troop of batarians in full tactical armor rushed out the gates, securing the perimeter around the crashed cab.  The drell then reached into the cabin of the car, dragging out Carlan Verrad, supporting the admiral as they ran to safety.

The old batarian slumped into a chair, bleeding from several wounds.

Ashrai rushed to Carlan’s side, “MY FATHER NEEDS AIDE!”

He shook aside her worries, “these are nothing, just surface scratches!  Get me some bandages, and get the damn Conclave on the line!  Clan Akesh just screwed us!”

Grunt grabbed the drell by the collar, “where is SHEPARD?!”

The young drell shook his head, “they took him…I barely made it out…”

“Let him down Ambassador Urdnot,” breathed Carlan, “that young lad drove us here…but we were too late to help Shepard…”

Grunt glared at Carlan, blood red mist hazing the krogan’s eyes.

Carlan shook his head, “peace, Grunt.  He’s alive, though I don’t know for how long…”

“Why?” demanded Ashrai, “how?”

“It was Clan Akesh,” replied the drell, “they attacked us as soon as the Lord Admiral reached us.  Shepard threw himself at them.”

Carlan shook his head, “damn fool killed several of them when they opened fire on me…but they took him away.”

“How can they get away with this?!” demanded Grunt.

“By claiming Shepard tried to rig the battle…that sniper.”

“That salarian shot my Battlemaster!”

“That’s not how Garmok is selling it…we need to move quickly if we are to save Shepard’s life.”

Grunt stomped his foot on the marble floor, cracking it, “I’M GONNA KILL THAT BASTARD!!!”

Carlan stood, bringing his hand to Grunt’s shoulder.  The raging krogan looked at the Admiral’s eyes, and calmed slightly.

Admiral Verrad nodded, “only if you beat me to it, my friend.  For now, we need the rest of your crewmates.”

Grunt nodded, punching his fists together, “about damn time.”

“Won’t the Conclave of Elders make trouble for us?” asked Ashrai.

“Not if they don’t know,” offered Carlan, “and if they do…I no longer care.  I’ll forge this path to peace…even if it’s a brutal one.”

“The best way really,” replied Grunt, “let’s get to work…”


	41. Lesuss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 41

Garrus and his team were seated in a space station lounge.  In orbit around the asari colony, they could see Lesuss beyond the windows.  The group had just finished conference with several diplomats from the hanar, elcor, and asari homeworlds.  It had been a heated several hours, as blame was tossed around.  Garrus didn't know how in the hell his team had become mediators, but it was just as well that he had brought Tali and Miranda along.  Between the two of them, the women had browbeaten the delegates into a truce, buying the SPECTRE time to get boots on the ground.

He shook his head, as the last delegate left, "remind me why you two don't work together more often?"

Miranda smirked, nodding to Tali, "I must say, it's refreshing to work with someone sharp for a change."

Tali smiled back, "and equal doses of charm, don't forget."

Garrus rolled his eyes, though not within eyesight of the two, he wasn't suicidal.  It was then that a slow clapping could be heard echoing through the room.  The trio turned, coming face to face with a drell in blue and black leathers.  Garrus took time to recall the face, then stood up, recognizing the drell as one of the Shadow Broker's operatives.  It was Liara's right hand in the organization.

"Feron?" asked Tali, "what are you doing here?"

The pale drell grinned, "Liara pulled some strings, got me to run the security detail for this conference."

Another figure walked through the doors, as the servos cycled, letting a willowy asari through.

"Probably just as well," said the sultry voice, "I grow tired of these debates, and the conversation has been welcome."

The striking red armor was a fimiliar sight to Garrus.  He quickly recognised the lithe form of the deadly beauty before him.

"Samara," he bowed slightly.

"An honor to meet you all," she replied, "I am grateful you are here...as I was about to commit treason."

"How so?" asked Tali.

"The hierarchy wouldn't allow her to go planetside," answered Feron," in light of what's happening."

"Yes, about that," said Miranda, "they wouldn't tell us, what IS happening down there?"

Feron turned to Samara, shrugging.

Samara turned to them, sighing, "though I have other means at my disposal, I must admit that something has halted the asari special forces on Lesuss...a weapon of some sort."

"It's the energy dampener Shepard told us about," explained the Feron, "the Dark Energy weapon that destroys biotics."

Miranda shook her head, "has anyone experienced the extreme effects of this weapon?"

"You mean blown out amps?" asked Feron, "no, thank the Goddess."

Samara nodded, "I am thankful as well...it gives me hope for Falere."

"Your daughter?" asked Tali

"Why would-" started Garrus.  Then he cursed, having forgotten the primary reason that this colony was so important, "the Ardat Yakshi monastary..."

The Ardat Yakshi were a great mystery of the asari culture.  Among the most powerful biotics ever produced, Ardat Yakshi were born from the union of two asari.  However, the process of merging minds with another, a biotic and biological imperative for most asari, was dangerous for Ardat Yakshi.  Invariably, these asari would destroy the minds of their mates.  The carnal act granted them potentially limitless power, and was addictive.  This was why they were sequestered, forbidden to use their natural talents, instead trained to redirect their urges elsewhere.  Hidden away from the rest of society, the Ardat Yakshi were the secret shame of the asari.  Even the term 'pureblood' was itself a horrible insult.

Samara had produced three daughters, all Ardat Yakshi.  Only one daughter had survived the Reaper War.  Falere had been instrumental in the recreation of the monastary, becoming a paragon other Ardat Yakshi could look to.  And Samara was being prevented from going to her rescue.  Worse still, all the asari units that had tried were either died or in comas.  The shock of losing their biotics was simply too much for most asari.  Moreover, batarian raiders, who somehow seemed immune to the attack, had used the situation to take even more asari into slavery.

"We'll find her," said Miranda.

"Not so fast," said Feron, "my sources had more info."

"It's worse?" demanded Tali, "how?"

"The Remnant are here," explained the drell.

"Furthermore," explained Samara, "the Remnant attacks seem to be ignoring the batarian raiders, who are abducting the colonists."

The others went silent.  There was a clear connection to Feros, and an implied one to Karshaan.  It was a matter of time before they had actionable proof against the batarians mixed up in this.  Unfortunately, time was not something the asari refugees had.

"Currently," reasoned Feron, "we think the batarians are somehow using the dark energy field to blind the Remnant to their presence.  The only reason the survivors haven't been wiped out is because of the rachni."

"The rachni?!" demanded Garrus, "they're here too?"

"It was Falere's idea,” Feron nodded, “they call this rachni Queen 'Athena.'  She's been helping the monastary…exploring the mind and developing calming exercises to control their urges."

"It was working," said Samara, "I was so proud..."

Garrus grit his teeth, his mandible twitching.  He was getting tired of being a step behind.  The asari were hurting, badly.  And because they couldn't help their allies, the elcor and hanar were suffering as well.  Meanwhile, raiders continued to attack, adding fuel to the fire.  At this rate, the Thessian border worlds would be a lost cause.

Garrus clenched his fist, "you still can be; we're getting her out..."

He turned to Tali, "you and Miranda continue decrpyting that data.  I need to know what this Dark Energy weapon is, and a way to stop it."

"Biotics are a liability here, that makes sense," Miranda nodded.

"We need proof against the batarian clans responsible," Garrus continued, "tell Zaeed and Revenant to get ready, we're going planetside."

Garrus turned to Feron,"I assume we lost contact with the ground forces?"

The drell nodded, "when the dampening field went up."

"Then let's hope we make it in time."


	42. Broken...Unbroken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 42

Shepard found himself awake in unfamiliar settings.  A bright lamp glared down at him from the ceiling, blinding him, as the rest of the room was shrouded in darkness.  Off to the side, he could see several computer terminals, a table with surgical implements, and various bits of technical gear.  A battery lay off to the side, it's fuses still smoking from when it'd been hooked to his wrists not minutes ago.

They'd been torturing him for what could have been days.  He'd lost track of time after passing out for the sixth time.  The batarians had given up for the time being, retreating to wherever.  They’d left him tied up to the rack, wearing nothing but his armored trunks and a tattered shirt.  He heard a commotion from outside, raised voices of his batarian captors.  Several loud thunks preceded an explosion, and the door flew inwards.  As Shepard blinked through the bright flare of light, he saw Liara T'Soni walk through the smoke.

As she saw him, her brows furrowed in concern, "Shepard!  Are you alright?"

He grunted in reply, "surviving...how'd you find me?"

"Never mind that," she stated, undoing his restraints, "did you tell them anything?"

Shepard shook his head, "tell them what?  We're still sifting through the data."

Something about the way Liara glanced at him unnerved Shepard.

"So you didn't tell them of any connections to Feros?"

"Liara," he shuddered, "let's get the hell out of here first, now is not the time to be grilling me!"

Before Liara could reply, she gasped, the tip of a sword emerging from between her breasts.  Her shirt was soaked in dark blood.  It bloomed from her wound like a macabre flower.  Shepard screamed in fury, as Liara collapsed, revealing a lithe assassin behind her.  The female form and Cerberus styled armor reminded Shepard of a Phantom.  Before the assailant could continue her attack, Shepard grabbed her sword arm, flinging the Phantom into the rack, ramming the sword through her chest.

The Phantom screamed, grunting and heaving her last breaths, "Shepard..." she whispered, in a voice all too familiar.

He blinked, shaking his head, "it can't be..."

The SPECTRE peeled off her mask, revealing the face of Jack underneath.  Her glowing eyes dimmed, as the biotic powers that had powered her began to fade.  Tears the color of blood streamed from her shimmering sockets.

Shepard denied it, this was nightmare...it had to be...he had to wake up...

Still the blood burned his hands…the bodies lying cold at his feet.  He screamed in madness, as the whole world began to turn red…

The leader of Clan Akesh shook his head, glaring at the unconscious human before him, twitching from whatever hallucination the torturers had come up with this time.  His subordinate referred to a series of readouts on his omnitool.

"Tell me," stated General Garmok, "how long have we had Shepard?"

"A few days," replied Chaarn, "though in combination with the drugs, nightmares, and torture, it will have felt like weeks for him."

"Then why, pray tell, do we still know NOTHING!?"

Garmok turned to the unconscious Shepard, taking note of the cuts and burns on the SPECTRE’s body.  His people had plied their trade well, and still the human revealed no secrets.

"My lord," offered Chaarn, "he is a SPECTRE, it will take time to break him."

"Time we don't have," replied Garmok, "I have been summoned to the Conclave of Elders, to answer for what has happened."

"What will you tell them?"

Garmok shook his head.  If the elders did not support him, Clan Akesh would have no choice but to secede from the Hegemony.  His name still commanded respect; the other warhawks would join him.  However, it would tie his peoples’ fate to the Paladins.

It galled him to leave Clan Verrad intact, "half out fleets are still better than none...Atrayus will have to pick up the slack for us."

Chaarn nodded slowly, "I mistrust this demon's bargain with the Collector sir."

"And you think I don't?!" demanded Garmok, "we need his technology!  Once the Citadel is ashes, we can claim half the Traverse!  Let him have the Terminus and his Omega-4 Relay!"

Garmok turned, as he saw Shepard shifting, a sign that he would wake soon.

"I must leave to see to this Conclave, take care of our guest."

Chaarn grinned, "show them their place, my lord, I shall not fail with this one..."

 

Shepard awoke, his eyes blurry.  The smell of charred flesh and rancid sweat assaulted his senses.  The drugs coursing through his body made it hard to be certain, but Shepard was relatively sure he was actually awake.

As he caught sight of the blurry figure before him, Shepard sniffed, "oh great, am I still in a nightmare?  I think I see a walking mass of shit before me..."

Chaarn scoffed, "you can still laugh after all this?  I've had you for over a month already!"

Shepard glared at the batarian incredulously, "you are desperate...if it had really been a month, you'd already be dead."

"And how is that?"

"My crew would have found you..."

Something about the certainty with which Shepard said that unnerved Chaarn; but he refused to be jarred.  The batarian drew out a new implement from a chest nearby.  The length of corded whip was wrapped in what seemed to be razor wire.

"You know...an amazing side effect of the drugs we've given you...you won't pass out from the pain; shock will never kick in."

Shepard groaned in reply, "the worst part is all your damn talking..."

"I can flay every last inch of flesh from your body," remarked Chaarn ignoring the insult, "and you’ll feel everything.  Last chance..."

Shepard said nothing...gritting his teeth for what was to come.

**********

Two figures roamed the entrance hall of Clan Akesh's stronghold.  A female batarian gaurd pushed the human woman roughly to the floor, as they reached the first security post.

Two more guards, both male, brought their rifles to bear.

"What is this?" asked one of them.

The female batarian grunted, "found this one snooping around, figured she may have something to do with one being interrogated."

A male gaurd roughly grabbed the human prisoner's neck, "they all look alike to me, but we'll add her to the slave pens after we break her."

Jack glared up at the gaurd, spitting in his face, "fuck off..."

The male gaurd appraised the female batarian, "good work..."

Females in the military were rare enough, especially as fine a specimen as this one.  More often, they plied their skills in tactics and espionage.  Male soldiers couldn’t help but take note.

"So tell me," he said, "which regiment are you from?"

“Never mind that,” she cocked her head to the side, "what happened to your friend?"

The guard turned, jumping back at the sight before him.  His friend was on the ground, throat slit, blood already pooling onto the ground.  He reached for the rifle on his shoulder, but the arm of the female batarian stopped him.  He turned, in time to see her features disappear like smoke, revealing a human looking face beneath, though the flesh was metal.

"In answer to your earlier query," EDI stated, her voice changed, "I work for an N7 SPECTRE..."

She fired her silenced pistol into the batarian's chest, a single round piercing the armor at close range, instantly killing the guard.  EDI helped Jack up to her feet, cutting bonds on the biotic's wrists.  Before them, a figure withdrew from cloak, as the salarian major, Kirrahe, appeared before them.  He raised his omnitool, a spark emitting from the device.

"Well done, Dr. Tsoni," Kirrahe stated over the comm, "your infiltration program knocked out their security protocols nicely."

"Good work," came Liara's reply, "I detect no alarms."

Jack recovered her shotgun from the salarian, and nodded, "what do we do now?"

Kirrahe walked over to the nearest computer, "I'll start hacking this terminal, figure out where they are holding Shepard."

"I wish I was there with you," said Liara.

Jack shook her head, "your plan allowed us to bluff our way this far, we need you watching the comms and the computers.  Where are the others?"

"Nearby."

Shepard's entire crew had wanted to take part in the rescue.  Some had insisted on a full frontal attack, while other had decided on stealthy infiltration.  Jack had wanted to go in immediately when Grunt had relayed the news of Shepard's capture.  Liara had wanted to go as well, but she couldn't risk endangering Shepard's life.  It had almost come to blows, but Liara had managed to calm down the woman.

In the end, Ashley had stayed aboard the Normandy with Liara, in case of attack.  Grunt and Javik had gone to the Conclave with Carlan Verrad.  Ashrai had joined her father to maintain plausible deniability of their actions, leaving Shiala and Vash nearby with seperate transports for either team.

Kirrahe's eyes widened as he deciphered a relay in the system, "Liara, there's an evacuation order here."

"Did they detect us?"

He shook his head, "it was announced two hours ago...Clad Akesh is to gather forces and meet near the closest relay..."

Back on the Normandy, Liara shook her head, “why would Garmok issue a general alert, an order to retreat?”

“Agreed,” said Kirrahe, “it would only make him look guilty.”

"He seems a power player," Liara reasoned, "it doesn't make sense to give up his position in front of the Conclave."

"Unless the Conclave no longer exists," offered EDI, "with Clan Akesh's current political power, they could silence any dissenting forces."

"Fucking coward," Jack cursed, "he's planning to sabotage the meeting!"

“And escape,” continued Kirahhe, “if the coup is unsuccessful.”

"I'll notify the others to evacuate the Admirals," said Liara, "you concentrate on finding Shepard!"

Kirrahe nodded as he came across the data they'd been looking for, "it's not far from here...by the ancestors..."

Jack turned, her breath catching at the look on the salarian's face.  He was positively pale.  He caught her look, and rushed to cover up the display.

"What is it?" demanded Jack, "what did they do to him?!"

Kirrahe sighed, as he turned the display, "it's a vid, Shepard's interrogation."

They'd had him for days, which had been enough time to make life a living hell for Shepard.  The batarians had injected him with Red Sand, among other drugs.

“Wouldn’t those enhance his biotics?” asked Kirrahe.

Jack shook her head.  The side effects ran deeper than that.  They’d likely restrained him, while the drugs took their toll on his body.  The hallucinations alone could have caused his heart to stop.  They'd followed but cutting him, burning him...trying to strip what made him human from his very psyche.  He'd been starved, his body looked gaunt.  Muscle had been neatly carved away, revealing what was beneath.

Jack could hear the jailer's taunts, "look at these!  Cybernetics?!  No wonder you could kill that yahg!  What kind of freak are you?!"

It slowly dawned on her that this footage was timelapsed.  They'd starved and tortured him like this for days.  She closed her eyes, drowning out the sounds, trying hard not to focus on what she'd seen.  Suddenly, she was a little girl again, being tormented in that hell on Paragia.  Once more, she recalled the feeling of being experimented on, being treated as less than human.

Now they were doing it to Shepard...to the man she loved...

"Liara," whispered Jack, "I am going to destroy these fuckers..."

EDI and Kirrahe drew away from Jack as she opened her eyes.  The biotic's entire body was awash in what seemed like blue flame.  A vortex of biotic energy surged around Jack, sucking in the debris around her, rending everything apart into dust.  Jack screamed at the top of her lungs, running full bore into the compound.  She had become a pure walking typhoon.

"By the goddess!" exclaimed Liara over the comms, "every alarm for several blocks has been tripped...what's happened?"

Kirrahe shook his head, "Jack just went to find Shepard..."

"Did they kill him?"

"I believe the Captain is alive," said EDI, "tell Shiala to bring the transport."

"Be careful," replied Liara.

Kirrahe shook his head, as he began to run in the path that Jack was carving out.  He shuddered as he saw the guards rushing into the biotic maelstrom that was Jack.  They were flung against the wall, shattering like flimsy dolls.  The walls were all but caving in from the relentless onslaught.

"No worry of that," remarked the salarian, "we just need to follow in her wake."

***********************

Shepard’s brow was sopping wet, streams of sweat running down his face.  Chaarn shouted in anger each time he whipped, the razor wire tearing open the SPECTRE’s flesh.

Chaarn seethed in anger, “tell me what I want to know!”

“Hah,” Shepard shuddered, “I’ve actually learned more, sitting here getting worked over, than I knew before!”

The human was openly laughing despite the pain.  His captors had wanted to learn the extent of his knowledge concerning their operations, any intel he had on the Paladins.  Ironically, garnering that knowledge had been part of his purpose in coming to the Hegemony.

“Seriously,” he spat blood into the batarian’s face, “keep it up.  This is all useless for you, but I’m learning more every minute…”

Chaarn flinched backwards despite himself.  The man’s stubborn resolve amazed him.  Shepard's muscles were past the point of functioning.  He shouldn’t have been able to muster the strength to keep resisting.  By all rights, the whipping alone should have broken Shepard.  Instead of becoming a slavering mass, he remained defiant.  Chaarn dropped the whip, the implement splashing into a pool of blood on the floor.

Shepard’s eyes opened slightly, “had enough fun yet?”

Chaarn leered again, drawing forth a syringe, “oh almost precious.  Let's see how you like this one...”

The batarian plunged the needle into Shepard's neck.  At first, he noticed nothing.  But in a matter of moments, the veins in Shepard’s body felt on fire.  He began to vomit, but after several days of nothing to eat, he had nothing left to wretch up.  Shepard could barely hear what Chaarn was saying, concentrating on breathing past the dry heaves, lest he suffocate.  The batarian drew close to Shepard's face, his breath causing the human's eyes to steam over.

"-forcing the Red Sand out of your system all at once...it'll come out of your body any way it can...even bleeding out of your wounds.  Once the withdrawals hit, you'll beg me to-"

He never found out what Chaarn was about to say, as a giant quake shook the room.

The batarian turned, yelling into his omnitool, "what the hell is going on?!"

"-under attack!" came the reply through bits of static, "-can't stop-"

Shepard opened his eyes.  This had been the chance he'd been waiting for.  The human glared at Chaarn's explosed neck, and lurched forward with his teeth.  The attack took the batarian by surprise.  He barely had time to draw breath, and screamed in agony as Shepard bit his throat.  The SPECTRE's knowledge of alien anatomy wasn't thorough, but batarian physiology was remarkably similar to human.  Shepard yanked his head back, ripping out a chunk of the batarian's jugular.  As Chaarn jerked forward, Shepard whipped the front of his head forward.  He crushed the batarian's nose with the crown of his skull.  Chaarn was dead before his body hit the ground.

With the last vestiges of Red Sand coursing through his body, Shepard used the biotic boost to wrench his arms free.  As he undid his ankle restraints, the shock hit his system.  Shepard toppled over, shuddering from the tortures his body had endured.  He growled in pain, spitting out blood along with batarian flesh.  There was no time to stop now; he had to escape.  Shepard found himself unable to get to his feet.   With an effort, he knocked over the nearby table, grabbing his knife from among the implements they’d used on him.  Holding the blade, he turned to Chaarn’s corpse.  Shepard unceremoniously hacked at the batarian’s hand, removing the omnitool.

“Maybe something will come of this,” he whispered to himself.

He had to get moving, but his muscles felt dead.  Cybernetics ground beneath the sinew, causing shocks of pain to assault his senses.  Crichton had to collapse against the torture table once again.  Easing the weight off of his taxed muscles, the man sighed with relief.  Perhaps he would rest a while, regain his strength.  The voices in his head screamed in warning, but Shepard closed his eyes, falling into the land of nightmares once again…

*****************************

Jack had been running for far too long.  Still she saw no signs of Shepard.  Dimly, in the back of her mind, Jack had been listening to the prompts of her friends, telling her which way to go.  She didn't care, slinging the gaurds in front of her like toys.  She'd be damned if these batarian bastards would keep her from Shepard.  She'd failed to be at his side before, and it had nearly killed him...never again...

Jack lifted another guard with a gesture.  She flicked her wrist, snapping the batarian's neck, and rounded the corner.  More batarians came screaming down the hallway at her, as if running from something.  She sneered as she flattened them with a Shockwave.  She was blinded momentarily, as a series of biotic detonations shook the hall before her.  A lone batarian guard remained, slowly getting to his feet, before an armored figure appeared from behind, using a knife to slit the batarian's throat.

Kirahhe turned to Jack, “interrogation room is in here, help me with the door…”

The salarian flinched backwards, as Jack’s biotics ripped apart the metal barrier like so much paper.  He waited for the jagged edges to cool a bit, still smoldering from the violence with which they had been torn.

As he entered the room, Kirahhe tried to ignore the table, full of torture implements.  On the nearby cot, a man was lying, seemingly in state.  The major wounds had been crudely stapled together, the less serious gashes openly bleeding.  Kirahhe had heard about Shepard’s resurrection, the cybernetics implemented during the process.  It was something else to come face to face with it…

Kirrahe tried not to focus on the shards of metal, gleaming cybernetics which shone through the rent skin.  Shepard looked like nothing more than a broken toy, a steaming shell that was caked in blood.  EDI came into the room behind the other two, about to speak.  Upon seeing the room, even she was rendered silent.

EDI turned, whispering, “Jack…”

Jack’s eyes were a blank slate.  Her face was a frozen mask, skin blanched and pale.  In her minds eye, Jack was reliving all the years she had suffered at the hands of Cerberus.  The endless torture, the death and struggle, all the years of constant torment came hurtling to the fore.  Seeing Shepard’s…husk…lying on that table, she couldn’t think at all.  She’d been treated like an animal, but Shepard hadn’t even been given that allowance…

A choked, growling sound emitted from Jack’s throat.  She’d lived through such things, had thought she was immune to such sights.  But that was a long time ago.  She thought she had made a life, found a home.  Now she realized, for all her bluster, she hadn’t been ready to let it go, she would never be whole again...

EDI turned, as she heard more footsteps down the hallway, “company.”

With a predatory glint in her eyes, Jack sprang outside, facing several YMIR mechs, several heads taller than the soldiers that flanked behind.

“Is this a fucking joke?” Jack growled, “I WILL KILL YOU ALL!!!”

Jack rushed forward in a snarling frenzy, the flash of her Biotic Rush blinding…

Inside the room, Kirahhe turned to Shepard, noting for the first time the flinching of his muscles, as if in reaction to the great clamor raised by the psychotic biotic.  EDI heard his movement, turning.

“Help me with him!” yelled Kirahhe.

“Shepard’s alive?”

“Not for long if we don’t hurry…”

 

Outside of the room, the hallway was a tableau of death.  Jack was awash in blood and soot, and no longer cared about anything.  She flung another corpse to the ground with disdain, and reared back, preparing to attack again.  Everything around her was broken, and nothing else mattered.

Somewhere along the way, Jack then decided to start destroying the entire damn base.  Dimly, in the back of her mind, she heard a voice over her comms.

“Jack,” said a salarian voice, “stop.”

“Piss off, I’m gonna make these bastards pay!”

“Really Jack,” insisted Kirahhe, “there’s nothing else to break, we need your help.”

The biotic, once known as Subject Zero, continued her rampage.  The halls reverberated in her wake, lights flickering, “fuck you!”

“DAMN IT JACK,” screamed the salarian, “if you take out all the electricity, you’ll kill Shepard!!!”

Jack stopped in her tracks, her mind trying to understand what she’d just heard, “come again?”

“Crichton’s alive, barely,” explained EDI, “I’m switching his life support systems onto battery back up, but I need time.”

“And we need you to lead us out of here,” finished Kirahhe, “that is, if there’s anything left to stop us!”

Jack blinked, as the blue waves about her calmed.  She shook her head, the haze from her mind clearing.  She turned, walking back into the torture chamber, as if she were heading to the gallows.  As she entered the room, she saw the man on the table, seemingly for the first time…  
A man…not a dead husk.  He was blinking weakly, waving off the breathing mask Kirahhe had pressed to his face.

"Shepard?" whispered Jack, not daring to believe her sight.

The soldier shuddered at the mention of his name.  He could no longer be sure of when he'd killed his captor, whether he had dreamt that as well.  Shepard ignored the burning in his gut, the agony that snaked through him.  Every breath was pain, his flesh laid open, bleeding onto the table.  His body felt on fire, but he no longer cared.  All that mattered was making it back.  There were people waiting for him back home, that was all he could think about...about Liara...and...

"Jack?" asked Shepard, blinking his eyes at the blue wisp in front of him.

He couldn't be sure if his eyes were playing tricks on him...if this was a hallucination.

"Shepard!" screamed the woman, rushing to him.

As she neared, Jack drew to a halt, her face a tableau of warring emotions.  He looked like a man possessed.  His eyes were glazed over, his shuddering body barely able to move.  Shepard’s mouth was awash in purple blood, from where he’d ripped out the throat of his batarian tormentor, and his fist was clenched tightly around some artifact.  That he was even awake was a miracle.  Despite Kirahhe’s protests, Shepard sat up.  The salarian finally noticed the knife in Shepard’s other hand, and took a small step back.

Shepard looked at her, she looked so real...but then, so had all the others...and they'd died in front of him.  In his dreams, sometimes Shepard had been the one to kill them...but no more.  He didn't give a damn if he died, he wouldn't be responsible for hurting them ever again...

Shepard looked at his arm, almost swearing he could hear the whir of motors this time, "huh, am I still dreaming?"

"I’M NOT A GODDAMNED DREAM ASSHOLE!" screamed Jack.

Something about the way she said it struck a chord with Shepard, and he flinched away, "this is real?"

Jack closed her eyes, fighting back the tears.  He had staggered backwards, as if he was afraid.  What had they done to him, to make him act like that?

"Be careful," whispered EDI behind her, "his state of mind is uncertain."

Jack didn't care, slowly drawing close to Shepard, wrapping her arms about him.  She laughed as she caught sight of what was in his hand, "you brought it back to me..."

Shepard blinked, looking at the knife in his hand, as it fell nervelessly from his fingers, "you're here...you came for me..."

Jack shuddered at the rasp of his voice, the desperate plea she heard there, "I'll always come for you..."

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply before slumping over into her embrace.

Jack turned to EDI, "help me with him!"

The android grabbed Shepard's other arm, as Kirrahe led them to the exit.

Shepard's mind was a haze, barely conscious as his friends led him from the hell of the past several days.  He was dimly aware of EDI's voice, as well as Jack's.  A flash nearly blinded him, as Kirrahe fired at attackers beyond the edge of Shepard's vision.  A hovercar careened into view, and Shepard was ushered in with the others in tow.

"Goddess," whispered Shiala, "is he alive?"

He weakly raised a bloodied arm, giving her the thumbs up, "I'm...bleeding all over your car..."

"Shut the hell up," said Jack, concern in her voice, "just stay with me..."

Shepard smiled weakly, his vision and hearing fading, as the first true sleep he'd had in days took hold...


	43. Bitter Alliance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 43

Ashrai was beside herself with rage.  Her and several guards stood in the foyer of a great hall.  In the chambers behind them, the Conclave had been in session for hours now.  Shepard had proved himself in the arena, how could Garmok have managed to call their honor into doubt?  She couldn’t help but feel it was because of her.  Her father's love for her called his judgement into question, according to those bigoted bastards in the Conclave.  Still, Shepard had proven a strong and honorable ally; there was no way to deny Clan Verrad's claims.

Her thoughts were interupted as she caught sight of the commotion at the front doors.  The gaurds stood to attention, drawing their weapons, but Ashrai calmed them with a gesture.  Grunt and Javik barreled through the front doors of the hall.  The batarians were used to seeing krogan by now, but the sight of a Prothean was enough to unnerve anyone.

"Evacuate the Conclave!" shouted Grunt, "he's planning an attack!"

Ashrai wasted no time, turning to the doors.  Per custom, the entry to the Conclave was sealed with locks, which would be opened from the inside.  Her biotics flared, as she effortlessly wrenched the barrier and flung the doors aside…

No sooner had she opened the door, than an explosion shook the foundations of the building, flinging her to the ground.  The tables in the Conclave hall were flung asunder, as batarians elders were thrown to the ground.  Ashrai's ears were ringing, but she managed to get to her feet.  Shakily, she stumbled over to her father, who was buried underneath rubble.  Grunt came to her side, lifting the debris from her father.  The old batarian coughed fitfully, nodding.

"Get the rest of the Conclave!" shouted Carlan, "Garmok is staging a coup!"

Ashrai turned, looking for the Akesh leader, but could not find him.  Several troopers, batarian and vorcha, crashed through the cieling, opening fire with assault rifles.  As she started to speak, a pulse assaulted her senses, flooring her.  Ashrai screamed, as she felt her biotics begin to fade.  Javik grunted, the green aura of his biotics beginning to flicker.  He cursed, flinging his attacks despite the Dampening Field.

Grunt charged through the battalion of assailants, as Ashrai gathered the surviving members of the Conclave.  Javik covered their retreat, as Vash drew a vehicle to the curbside, several cars in tow behind him.  Ashrai and her father filed in, another batarian and Javik trailing behind.

The rest of the Conclave fell to the ground as another explosion shook the steps of the steps of the great hall.  Several vorcha bodies flew through the air, crumpling on the ground as they fell.  Grunt called out in rage, leaping through the space, landing with a jarring thud.  His assault rifle blared loudly, as he motioned for the rest of the Conclave to enter their vehicles.  Finally, reinforcements arrived, but the scene was one of turmoil, skycabs darting through the skies…

Grunt drew into the vehicle, "we need to get out of here; explosions could hit the upper dome!"

Ashrai nodded, not wanting to be caught in a possible vacuum effect.  The blast shields would save the colony, but that wouldn't mean much to them if they were dead.  Grunt drew into the car, as Vash revved the engines, taking the convoy away from the scene.

Carlan leaned back, shaking his head, "I can't beleive Garmok would be so brazen."

A gruff voice replied, "Akesh still owns the loyalty of the die-hards...his coup will become a secession...and the Hegemony will have lost half its fleets..."

It was only now that Ashrai saw the other batarian sitting across from them, "Admiral Balak..."

Balak nodded, "well Verrad, this treachery would have become a coup, if not for your...unorthodox allies..."

Javik sniffed, "I've ceased to call those of this era 'primitives,' but many of you still constantly test my patience..."

Balak ignored the barb, "and by what means have these...‘liberators’ managed to infiltrate the Hegemony?  Shepard’s crew was forbidden entry."

Ashrai sneered, "we save your life...and you question the means by which we do it?"

Balak shrugged, "under other circumstances, I might; and you would do well to respect your betters..."

Carlan shifted forward, "enough Balak, I will hear no more insults levied towards my daughter...especially not after today..."

Admiral Balak glared, taking a deep breath, then nodded, "where is Shepard?"

"Garmok unjustly imprisoned him," said Carlan, "as we speak, my allies are freeing him."

"And if I know Shepard," continued Ashrai, "he will also likely bring more proof against Akesh...”

Javik sniffed, “as if we need it anymore..."

"Any more insults to my Battlemaster," growled Grunt, "and I will make sure Clan Urdnot takes personal offense..."

Balak reared back in his seat, knowing he was outmatched.  The prospect tasted bitter in his mouth, and he allowed the bile to register in his voice.

"Very well, it seems...Clan Verrad's sanction to treat with the Citadel Council shall be heard.  I rather doubt the Conclave will oppose it now."

"And Akesh?" demanded Carlan.

"I'd like nothing more than to see that bastard hang," said Balak, "but I know how he thinks...his next move will be to take his fleets."

"Then chase him!" yelled Javik.

"Our leadership is in disarray!" countered Balak, "we have to focus on defense as Akesh flees.  If I chase him and his allies now, we will have a civil war on our hands!"

"You have one already, whether you seek it or not," replied the Prothean.

Balak shook his head, "then you had better hope Shepard can convince the Council to help us root them out...if we have any fleets left after today."

As if lending creedence to Balak's words, the space beyond the dome was awash in light.  Explosions abounded, as capital ships fired upon one another.  It seemed as if all of the batarian Hegemony had gone mad.  The fleets had been a powder keg waiting to ignite…

Now the line had been drawn, Clan Akesh called for secession from the Hegemony.  The call went out over every comm.  The warhawks decried the Conclave, who supported the “impure tenets” of Clan Verrad.  Ashrai cursed, seeing the propaganda flashing on all nearby holoscreens.

“Let the weaklings support slaves and other species,” claimed General Garmok, “the true batarian race will not stand such a blight upon its honor.  All Akesh allies will leave the Hegemony.  Soon, we will claim all the Terminus as territory.”

“Get me back to my command,” urged Balak, “and Carlan to his, we must protect ourselves, and consolidate our forces against this secession.”

They were lucky to have forces left to save.  It could have been the entire Hegemony following this folly.  All batarian leadership had nearly been killed.

Ashrai shook her head, "what was that back at the Conclave?  I've felt Dampening Fields before, but my biotics were useless!"

Vash shook his head, "same weapons on Feros...ask Ash-lee."

Javik nodded, "it seems this clan, Akesh, has allied with our other enemies..."

Ashrai drew silent, not liking this knowledge, "I have a bad feeling about this."

"Then let us hope," said Carlan, "that Shepard returns with good news..."

Balak made a sour face at that comment, "Maker preserve us..."


	44. The Siren of Lesuss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 44

The planet of Lesuss had once been peaceful.  Its idyllic clime boasted temperate weather all year round.  The stars shone down against the glimmering cityscapes and marble asari architecture.  Clear skies reigned during the day, softly soothing.  Currently, however, the planet was a living hell, a burnt out shell of its former glory.  A green-skinned drell ran from cover to cover, taking shots at Remnant husks with his rifle.  Kolyat wasn't used to forgoing his biotics.  He considered it a miracle that he could function at all, recalling how the asari in his squad had fallen unconscious, once the dampening field had hit.

Kolyat Krios laughed again, cursing the foolishness of it all.  He'd been sent away from the Citadel as the result of a failed mission.  His boss, Captain Bailey of Citadel Security, had sent him to gather information.  The sensitive nature of the mission was such that it could implicate Charles Saracino, the leader of Humanity First, an extremist political party with ties to organized crime.  As there was no proof against the criminals, it had been Kolyat's job to find it.  But the mission had gone south, resulting in the death of Saracino's security personnel, as well as the murder of a young child.  The media has been awash in frenzy, and Kolyat had been sent away, lest he draw further attention.  Krios had been certain to cover his tracks, but one could never be sure.

Which was how he'd found himself on a taskforce with Joram Bau, a salarian SPECTRE looking for a few good operatives to join him on missions.  Bailey had pulled a few strings, and Kolyat found himself a part of the impromptu band.  It had been good at first; then they'd made their way to Lesuss.  Half the team had died after the first onslaught.  The dampening field had taken out all biotics, and several of the members couldn't cope.  Hell, the entire asari populace had barely been able to cope.

So Joram Bau had turned the extermination mission into a rescue op.  Taking the remaining crew, the salarian had last been seen marching several Ardat Yakshi to the shuttles.  Somewhere along the way, Kolyat had gotten separated.  A lone asari had saved him.  Somehow, the Ardat Yakshi were immune to the dampening field, though not entirely so.

This was how he currently found himself, out of breath and collapsed against a tattered wall, trying to regain his senses.  Across from him, the asari that had saved his life dropped to her knees, catching her breath as well.  They'd been running nonstop for hours, fighting the entire way.  Kolyat shook his head, staring at the woman before him in disbelief.  Ardat Yakshi had a very small store of energy to draw from, unable to recharge their biotics through normal means.  This meant they fatigued easily when using biotics.  Yet despite this, the asari before him had been going nonstop the entire time.

"Falere," he whispered, "you can't keep doing this...you'll die!"

She shook her head, wiping the sweat from her brow, "I have to get you out of here!"

Kolyat grunted, "it's the other way around.  I was sent to extract the leaders from the monastary, you're the last."

Falere nodded.  Her work with the rachni Queen had been indispensible.  If the Ardat Yakshi were to have any hope of a normal future, her work had to continue.

"I can't feel Queen Athena," shuddered Falere, "I only get glimpses, she and her workers are fighting hard...buying us time."

Krios nodded, glancing at his omnitool, "the signal's blackout is getting closer...are you sure you can handle this?  There's no telling what this will do to you..."

When she'd found Kolyat, the drell had insisted they get off planet.  However, Falere had managed to contact the space station before the media blackout.  Someone named Feron had been able to send her information on the dampening field.  The blackout was coming from several clicks away from the monastary, the heart of Remnant territory.  They had to take out the source if rescue operations were to have a chance.

Falere nodded, "let's keep going!"

Kolyat put a hand on her shoulder, "peace young maiden; you'll kill yourself at this pace."

The Remnant scouts seemed to have passed them by for now.  They needed to catch their breath before pressing on.

Falere beat her fist against the dirt, "I can't stand idle as my people die!"

“We'll get there,” the drell nodded, patting her on the shoulder, "you can do this.  You saved me, remember?"

The asari grinned at Kolyat, "and you've been protecting me ever since.  It's a wonder you can function at all.  Too many of my sisters fell prey to this foul weapon."

He nodded in reply, "my father's a very good teacher, taught me to rely on more than just my fists, or my biotics."

"He sounds like a good man."

"He was."

Falere saw the anguish in Kolyat's face, his body jerking as he recalled a snippet of memory.

"Pupils dialated from pain...his breathing is stilted, lungs collapsing..."

The drell shuddered, as the recollection continued, his species’ blessing, and curse, known as Solipsism.

"'He should be ashamed,' father says, 'a dying man kept him from his target.'"

Kolyat's eyes twitched, tears streaming down his face, "I grip the book in my fists, waiting for his pain to end...with a shuddering cough, he begins to pray...and we join him..."

Falere winced, shaking her head, "I'm sorry I made you see that..."

Kolyat shook his head, his body shuddering as the memory subsided, "my father never regretted a moment of his life, neither should we."

He turned, glancing over the rubble to see that the path was clear, "let's get going.  Letting these beasts roam free insults my honor."

Falere laughed breathlessly, "you sound like my mother."

Kolyat nodded, "I met her actually, she attended my father's funeral."

"Did she?" asked the asari, recalling the strange thread of fate that tied them all together, "I suppose the crew of the Normandy had a few stories to tell..."

Kolyat grinned, darting through the rubble, Falere shadowing behind him.  He'd rarely met a woman like her before, disarmingly capable.  She was harsh yet ethereal, singularly striking, like her mother Samara.  Kolyat had to smile again.  No less was he the product of his father, after all.

"We'll have a few stories of our own, I'm sure..."

 

Falere shushed him with a raised hand, as she heard a series of grunts and whisperes from the tattered building before them.  Several batarians stood in a circle around a hologram display, which showed another batarian in a cloak…

*******************

The Terminus…

Several relay jumps away, the leader of Clan Akesh sat.  He’d barely managed to evacuate his forces from the Hegemony, and there had been no time for rest.  A shiver went up his spine, as he pointedly ignored the Collector at his side.  The secession had been a success, after all.  He couldn’t allow anything to set him back.

“How many more shipments?” asked General Garmok Akesh.

“The hell with you,” spat the squad-leader on Lesuss, “we’ve sent as many as we can.  If we don’t get out now, we’ll fucking die.”

All this rambling infuriated the Collector at Garmok’s side.  Atrayus’ wings fluttered in annoyance.  The Thorian samples had helped him resurrect the sleepers on Ilos.  However, the procedure had created nothing but mindless husks.  It was not a path to resurrect his people.  These Ardat Yakshi, they too had provided fertile grounds for experimentation, but the samples were coming in too slowly.

“Typhon is not complete,” cursed Atrayus his voice echoing off the bulkheads, “we need more subjects!”

Garmok looked out of his ship’s bridge sensors.  A great light emitted from the planet below, as if some great furnace were ablaze on the surface.  Indeed, giant engines had been working tirelessly on this “Project Typhon.”  The leader of Clan Akesh knew it was a superweapon, but attempts to discern its nature had proved…fruitless.  His spies had returned with eyes gouged out, screaming incoherently.  That was when they’d returned at all.

“The hell with your typhoon-whatever,” replied the soldier in the holovid, “the show is over here.”

Atrayus glared at Garmok, and nodded, “indeed it is…”

Garmok blanched, as he stared back at the screen.

*****************

Back on Lesuss…

Falere and Kolyat drew close to the center of the rubble.  The headaches got worse.  Falere gripped her forehead, blood leaking from her nose.  Kolyat doubled over in pain, trying to keep from vomiting onto the ground.  They were unable to keep themselves from staggering, as the ground beneath them crunched.  The nearby squad snapped to attention, hearing the noise.

The batarian commander turned, “we’ve been found out!”

“Then your use is at an end,” stated Atrayus from the holovid.

The orb attached to the device began to glow, issuing a loud whine.  The sound assaulted the senses, driving the batarians insane.  They clawed at their ears, drawing blood, as their mouths began to froth over.  Falere somehow managed to raise a biotic barrier, muffling the effects of the shockwave.  Kolyat shuddered in her arms, curled up into a ball.

The orb and the device both shattered, flinging them away.  Kolyat slowly came to his senses, regaining his sight.  Batarian body parts were strewn about.  He ignored the sights and smells, rousing the asari at his side.  Falere shook her head, opening her eyes slowly.

“Wake up,” said the drell, “we still have company.”

The asari gasped, as she saw what Kolyat meant.  The explosion had attracted every Remnant for miles around.  A chill went down her back, and she dully began to move.  Kolyat gripped her hand tightly, as he began to fire his pistol at the closest husks.  Falere was spent from her earlier exertions, but managed to keep up.  Yet wherever they ran, they could not escape the horde.  They were surrounded...

With a cry, Kolyat overloaded his omnitool, sending a wave of eletricity arcing through the nearest groups of husks.  The monsters cried out in pain, shrinking away for the moment.  Krios collapsed to the floor, completely spent.  His body shuddered, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

"Kolyat!" screamed Falere, cradling the drell in her arms.  She slapped his face lightly, "don't leave me, we're almost through this!"

“No,” the drell blinked, his vision a dark haze, "we're both done, the Remnant are on their way."

"We'll fight them," urged Falere through her tears, "together."

Kolyat smiled, "you're mother told me you empathized too much.  I can't let you die."

She shook her head, her expression confused.  Kolyat smiled sadly, taking a deep breath before continuing.

"I want you to take my mind," he whispered.

Falere gasped, unable to reply.  The very idea was anathema to her.  Her entire life, she'd been told to control her urges.  The act of joining her mind to another's inevitably resulted in death.  If any Ardat Yakshi found herself guilty of such a crime, they'd become murderous addicts, hunted and put to death like rabid dogs.

"Do you know what you're asking?"

Kolyat smiled sadly, "I know you.  You beat the dampening field, you've dealt with an overwhelming burden your entire life...you can beat this."

"No I can't," she said, her voice a bare whisper, "even if I wanted to..."

Kolyat shuddered again, as the cries of the Remnant drew ever closer.

"Listen," he said haltingly, "we're dead anyway.  At least this way, my death has meaning.  Let me save you, please..."

He opened his eyes, pleading with her.  Falere said nothing, her entire body quaking, as if in shock.  The drell slowly brought his hand up, caressing the flesh along the nape of her neck.  As Kolyat drew close, Falere's heart thundered like a drum, feeling fit to lurch out of her chest.  She found herself unable to draw breath, her entire sight mesmerized by Kolyat's lips.  Falere knew this was wrong, but something in her yearned for this, had always done so.  Her mask of control was slipping, and she was afraid.

"It's alright," Kolyat wiped away the tears from her eyes, shaking his head, "I'm sorry..."

He drew her in suddenly, sealing her lips with his own.  Falere's mind erupted in an explosion of color, as her eyes went black.  Her consciousness melded with Kolyat's, and she greedily drunk in the sensation.  Falere found she couldn't stop, no longer remembering if she even wanted to…

She saw his memories, the paths his life had taken.  In mere moments, she'd seen his entire life, knew Kolyat as if she'd lived her entire life with him, yet still she yearned for more.  Suddenly, she was no longer a scared asari maiden, sheltered all her life.  She was a capable soldier, a shadow trained in the ancient martial arts.  She was the hand that enacted the will of the hanar, a mercenary that brooked no failure.  But these memories were not hers, they were being ripped from Kolyat, and the drell began to scream...

Some part of her mind rebelled.  Falere heard the call of the rachni Queen in her mind, like a phantom.  She remembered the months spent, countless days learning to ride the tide of her own uncontrollable emotions.  Then the image in her mind began to change, as if seen through a haze…

Kolyat's own mind was ablaze in a torrent of memories, as he lapsed into Solipsism, the perfect memory of his people.  In his last moments, he recalled all he was, all he had done.  As he felt the current of Falere's mind against his own, Kolyat felt more at home than ever before.  He allowed the warmth to envelop him, as he was carried away by the tide of memory.  He heard Falere begin to cry out, and it was as if his mind blinked…

Slowly, other memories began to fade into his.  Now he was living a life that was not his own.  He saw Falere's mind laid bare, and felt as if his entire life had been a lie.  He was no longer a drell who'd nearly fallen into darkness, now he recalled life at the monastary, conquering his demons day by day.  Falere's memories were like sweet ambrosia, and he drank it in like a drug.  Then, the moment was gone in a flash, all was silence...

Falere came to her senses, glancing to and fro, uncertain of where she was.  Slowly, she felt the weight in her hands, and looked down.  It was the weight of Kolyat...of the one she had killed.  She wept, shuddering uncontrollably.  Falere screamed into the burning skies, cursing herself for a fool.  Kolyat had given his life to save hers...and she was no better than a murderous monster.  Even now, the blood raged through her veins, leaving a sense of euphoria.  She craved more, and she hated herself for it.  Falere smashed her fist against the ground, almost hearing what her mother would say...what the rest of the monstary would call her...

'Traitor...'

Dimly, Falere noticed the screeches of the Remnant husks that had finally drawn close.  She no longer cared.  She'd killed one who had shown her kindness, who had come to protect her.  She felt no better than the filth that surrounded her.

"Survive child," whispered the voice of Queen Athena in her mind, the rachni's voice ever calming, "conquer your fears."

Falere looked up, tears streaming freely down her face.  She owed Kolyat her life, the least she could do was survive long enough to save the others...then she could die.  The asari stood up, biotics flaring all about her body, blue and violet swirls raging in a maelstrom.  Falere became the eye of the storm.  For years afterwards, people would recall the stories of the “Siren of Lesuss.”

The torrent of light and sound was a mesmerizing sight to behold, spanning a radius large and bright enough to be seen by satellite.  Once the storm had ended, two lone figures stood amidst the debris, the Remnant forces about them destroyed.  With the dampening field gone, the asari could now drop shock troops, and save the colony.

****************************

Several systems away…

Atrayus turned to face the stunned batarian at his side.  The Collector’s wings twitched in annoyance, and he dropped the Leviathan orb in his hand.

“Was it enough?” asked Garmok.

“It will have to be,” stated Atrayus, “set course for Haestrom.”

Garmok shook his head, “we sent the asari slaves there, Xen should have things well in hand.”

“No,” said Atrayus, “I tire of this charade.  Bring a contingent of sleepers, the ones treated with the Thorian samples…I wish to perform a test.”

The batarian looked at outside his bulkheads again, catching sight of the crypts adorning the docking bay nearby.  He shuddered, disliking the proposition of so many of those THINGS aboard his ship.  He knew he had no choice.  Somehow, he was unable to resist the will of the damn Collector.  Had he, in fact, been Indoctrinated?  But that was impossible, without the Reapers alive…wasn’t it?

Maybe his compatriot, Daro’Xen, had been right.  She’d denied Atrayus’ “gifts” in favor of raw tech.  The quarian admiral had a unique…perspective…as to her people’s path to power.  Garmok grunted.  It was far too late to have second thoughts now…

As if on cue, Xen’s voice chimed on his intercom, “Thorian samples and Ardat-Yakshi have all arrived.  Despite some minor setbacks, the plan has been a success.”

“Then prepare for our arrival,” said Garmok.

“What about Project Typhon?” asked Xen.

Despite himself, the batarian looked at the great churning engine, which had already devoured countless lives, leaving nothing but a foul scar on the surface of Ilos below.

“Typhon can take care of itself,” said Atrayus, his claws and antennae twitching.

The leader of Clan Akesh pointedly ignored the groans and whispers echoing in his skull.  He swore to himself that once the campaign was over, he’d kill this Collector himself, and put an end to the voices once and for all…

************************************

On Lesuss…

Falere dropped to her knees, cradling Kolyat in her arms as she weeped, shaking her head.

"Forgive me," she whispered through the tears.

In her arms, Kolyat's body jerked.  He coughed lightly, shaking his head, "for what, saving my life...again?"

The asari gasped so hard, she nearly dropped him.  She couldn't beleive her eyes.  Somehow, Kolyat was alive!

"No, you can't be," she said, "is this a dream?"

Kolyat smiled, "if it is, please don't wake me..."

"You...you foolish..."

Falere found herself unable to say anything, as the drell kept grinning.  She grasped him tightly, refusing to let go…

Kolyat had thought he would wake up dead, finally on the shores beyond.  Yet somehow he had survived, safe in the arms of the radiant beauty cradling him.  Kolyat found himself barely able to move, but managed to wrap his arms around Falere.  They stayed like that until a rescue team found them.

Garrus shook his head as he came upon the sight, turning to Zaeed and Revenant.  

The geth cocked his head to the side, "is this normal behavior for near death experiences?"

Vakerian groaned, turning to Zaeed Messani.

Zaeed shrugged, then scratched his nose, chuckling, "this'll be fun to explain to mother dearest."

Garrus and Falere both gasped at the same time, realizing what that meant.  Samara's whole purpose in life had been to ensure her daughters never strayed from their preordained paths.  Even unto the point of death, her own included, the implacable will of the Justicar would not be denied.

"Mother," squeeked Falere, like a scared child.

"Oh shit," muttered Garrus.

Kolyat found himself unnerved, suddenly wishing he were fighting Remnant again...


	45. Fear and Passion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 45

Author’s Notes:  Hey guys!  We are entering the home stretch here; I am currently editing the last 15 chapters!  I hope everyone has enjoyed the read thus far!  At any rate, I just wanted to give fair warning on this chapter, as Jack is…well, Jack…and she intends to sex the hell out of Shepard…that is all…

 

Shepard’s mind was wracked with pain.  A constant throbbing raced through his skull.  It was the only thing he could feel.  The ache pulsed in time with the blaring noise in the background, the call of the Reapers.  His chest burned, and Shepard looked down, seeing a spear of metal jutting out from it.  The Dragon’s Tooth had him transfixed, and from the spike issued a growth, as if it were rot made of metal.  Shepard felt the tendrils squirming within him, burrowing through his flesh like maggots.

He cried out in dismay, gripping the lance in a vise, breaking it with his bare hands.  He fell for what seemed forever, landing with a jarring thud, hearing the crunch as several bones broke.  Shepard forced his eyes open, turning over and looking at his chest.  Blood oozed out of the festering wound, and everywhere it touched, the metallic ichor spread.  The man scraped at the rot, seeking desperately to rid himself of the affliction.

Muscle and sinew gave way to metal.  He had ceased being human long ago.  A metal monstrosity had replaced the man he used to be.  His flesh turned cold, turning deathly pale.  He could no longer move, his actions determined by some outside force, as if he were a puppet, some unseen master pulling his strings.  Shepard opened his mouth to scream, but no human sound came out.  Only the implacable blare of the Reapers filled his ears…

He woke with a start, the SPECTRE’s eyes darting to and fro.  Crichton looked up at the sterile lights of the ceiling above, arms struggling against the restraints on the medical bed.  Was he still at the batarian facility?  Was this yet another hallucination?  Shepard shook his head, unsure what to believe.  He felt a pressure on his right hand, and looked to the side.  Liara was there, a reassuring smile on her face.  She was saying something to him, though he could hear nothing.

Shepard shook his head, “no…get back…they’ll…kill you again!”

He began to thrash about.  If he had to witness their deaths again, he’d go insane.  An indignant rage began to swell from the pit of his stomach, as he began to scream in defiance.

“I’LL KILL YOU BASTARDS!!!”

Liara’s grip never faltered, keeping a vise on his hand, as her saddened face began to grow hazy and blurred.  As if from a dream, a whisper of voices waded through the dullness…

“By the Goddess, it was almost as if he was…frightened…what did they do to him?”

“You don’t want to know.  Death was too good for those fuckers…I’d have taken my time if I could.”

“The bastards cut and run,” said a third voice, “we can’t catch them now.”

“Watch me try,” snarled the second voice, “I’ll snap them like toys!”

“You brought him back to us,” replied the first voice, “that’s all that matters…”

Then all was silent, and he fell asleep again.  In the darkness, there were no dreams.  Finally, no nightmares came…and it was a blessing.

*****************

When Shepard awoke again, his surroundings were more familiar.  The dull blue metal of Normandy’s bulkheads glimmered softly from the light of the console at the foot of his bed.  Dozens of display monitors lay dark and idle, uncommon for Liara’s Shadow Broker array.  Dimly, Shepard realized that the headaches were gone; the throbbing agony that had threatened to split his skull wide open for so long had vanished.

In its place was a gentle caress, a warm set of hands stroking his scalp, easing away the tension.  He recognized another pair of feet beside his, following the naked legs, noting the familiar tattooes.  Simple shorts covered the woman’s supple skin, a basic wrap covering her breasts.  Slowly, Shepard’s hand drew up, tracing lines along the familiar curves.  He fingered the light chain about her neck, running his thumb along the dog tag, one of his old ones.  It was an ancient memento, and he couldn't beleive she still had it...

He rested his hands and eyes on the nape of her neck, allowing both to linger there.  Eventually, his fingers drew to her face, his thumb brushing her lips.  Her saliva stuck to his fingers, feeling more real than any sensation in the past several weeks.  Finally, Shepard drew his gaze up to hers.  Jack’s unflinching hazel eyes took him in, and it felt like coming home.

He hardly dared believe, but in a wavering voice, Shepard spoke, “am I still dreaming?”

It hurt his throat to speak, his movements still sluggish, but all of his focus was on her face.  He had to know if this was another hallucination, if he’d finally cracked.  Jack tried smiling, but something caught in her throat.  She didn’t trust her voice, and she didn’t want to upset him, so she settled for wrapping her arms around him, enveloping Shepard in her embrace…

For his part, Shepard closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of her bosom, the softness of her skin, breathing in her scent.  He stayed like that as long as he dared, until he was finally certain that this was no longer a dream.  Shepard tried to sit up, but Jack firmly pressed his chest down.  She resettled herself, and drew Shepard to rest against her.

“We can’t jar you too much,” she said, “you’ve been out for a while now.”

Shepard nodded, noting one of Jack’s long legs wrapped around his waist.  He couldn’t help but laugh, getting ideas already, but he had to figure out his situation first.  He settled for massing the skin along her thighs, reveling in the ripple of her muscles, the slight shudder of her flesh.  The SPECTRE could hear her breathing heavily, and she flicked him lightly along the ribs with her fingers, playfully chiding his teasing.

He kept from chuckling, though only just, “how long?”

“They only had you for a few days,” Jack continued, “but they filled you full of those drugs…”

He blinked.  Days?!  It had felt like weeks, maybe even months!

He nodded, “how bad was it?”

Jack quivered again, “I don’t want to think about it.  Reminds me of Paragia.  You’ve spent the last week in a vat of medigel after we pumped that shit out of your system.”

Shepard understood.  Likely, the weakness he was feeling was from the withdrawal symptoms of whatever drugs the torturers had given him.  He only hoped the effects weren’t permanent.

Jack kissed his forehead, rocking slightly, “it’s okay, you’ll be fine…you always bounce back.”

He sighed, “I can’t be so sure Jack.  Everyone thinks I’m the same person I was… when I came back from the brink, that it only made me stronger.”

Jack became silent.  He never talked about…before.  She’d never asked, perhaps she’d been afraid to.  How could she ask her lover to talk about his own death?

“How much of me got left behind?  Am I the same?” Shepard closed his eyes, gripping her tightly, “truth is, I’m not so sure anymore, and that scares the hell out of me.  But everyone needs me to be strong…so I am…”

“Crichton,” Jack whispered, shaking her head as she caressed his face, “don’t do this to yourself.”

He clasped his hands with hers, settling on top of her, and brought her hand to his neck, “it’s alright, I can be what they need me to be…as long as the ones I love stay by my side.”

Jack tried to speak, but Shepard silenced her lips with a violent kiss, stealing the breath from her mouth.  She was startled and excited by his ferocity, as he all but ripped her clothing aside.  She understood the impulse, having brushed close to death many a time.  He needed to feel alive.  And Jack…Jack needed to be sure he still was.  She was already wet and aching with desire.

His whole body quivered, muscles twitching.  He still seemed to be holding back, as if waiting for something, some sign.  So Jack gave it to him, cooing a sweet whisper into his lips.

“Fuck me already, you bastard…”

Shepard snarled fiercely, moving violently, as if to devour her.  Jack gasped with surprise, issuing a lusty moan, as her eyes began to roll in ecstasy...

*******************

Elsewhere on the Normandy…

Liara stood in the center of the ship’s CIC.  Friends and crew were arrayed around her.  On the holodisplay behind the asari, streams of data displayed what seemed to be sequences of gibberish.  The mission to Karshaan seemed like ages ago.  Shepard's recovery had been interminably long, unbearably so.  Each moment had brought more agonized uncertainty.

The Shadow Broker sighed, glancing Ashrai, "any news?"

Ashrai clenched her fist, punching into the bulkhead in frustration, "that bastard just ran!  He had the gall to claim foul at the Arena...took his fleets with him over the 'slight!'"

"And the Hegemony just LET him?" demanded Shiala.

Ashrai groaned, "it was that, or risk open war with half our fleets...our worlds have been decimated already, we can't afford it."

Liara sighed, "in its place, we have a silent war looming instead.  A flotilla of ships that large won't stay quiet during this turmoil."

"Great," muttered Ashley, "a more aggressive version of the old quarian fleet...one that's looking to destroy us."

"In my day," offered Javik, "we would have vaporized the dissenters."

"Indeed," Liara arched an eyebrow, appreciating the sentiment, though clearly unamused.

"Well, it doesn't rain, but it pours," Liara continued, remembering the old human adage, "I forwarded my findings from the Orthos archives to Tali."

"You cracked the codes?" asked Ashley.

They'd been run so ragged, few remembered that at the beginning of all this, Garrus had been sent to save data culled from an Orthos relay station.  All station crew had been lost, but Garrus' team had managed to salvage some garbled data.  It had gotten a great many agents killed, and seemed uncrackable, even for the mighty Shadow Broker.

She felt like grinning triumphantly, but the news was hardly celebratory.

"Mostly...I was able to crossreference the code with what Shepard and Jack pulled from the batarian servers," continued Liara, "we found why the quarians have been disappearing...it was the Paladins."

"An organization in league with the salarian STG, batarian Hegemony, and even ex-Cerberus remnants," scoffed Kirahhe, "I'd be inclined to dismiss the theory, but I'm not the old Council."

The other crew laughed, Ashley the hardest.  They well knew the skepticism of the old Citadel Council, its refusal to face the truth, and how that folly had nearly destroyed the galaxy.

"So what are the Paladins?" asked Ashley.

“We haven’t discerned the current head of Cerberus,” Liara shook her head, "though I feel it's safe to say that Admiral Garmok is under their thumb."

"Our STG assailants on Omega must be Paladins as well," added Kirahhe, "although that suggests something worse."

The room went silent.  Salarian STG were the best intelligence agents in Citadel space, a tight knit group answering directly to the Dalatrassy.  If they were Paladins, then so was a faction within the salarian government.

"Dr. Wiks has narrowed the list with Lawson and Kasumi's help," said Kirrahe, "but we still have to garner our forces against the STG traitors as well, place them in position to act..."

It was logical, of course, but still unsettling to hear.

“Meanwhile,” cursed Ashley, “batarian raiders attacked Lesuss, though the separatists from the Hegemony deny any involvement.”

"So what did that bastard want with the asari?" asked Ashrai, feeling disgust at the behavior of her fellow batarians.

Liara remained silent, turning to the script on the holovid.  The display's gibberish slowly cleared, showing population data.  Outlines of asari and quarian bodies appeared, skin and muscle being peeled back, layer-by-layer.  More lines of code appeared next to the readouts, marking several points along the nervous systems on display.

"Experiments," said Liara, "the batarians stole specimens to experiment on them."

The figures of the missing populace rose exponentially.  Ashley could scarcely believe her eyes.  Numbers this large hadn't vanished since the Collectors had abducted colonies.  Everyone in the galaxy remembered and feared them, as much as the Reapers.  And what THEY'D done to the missing...

Ashley fought to keep her gorge from rising, "that's...genocide..."

Liara nodded wordlessly.

"To what end?" demanded Kirahhe, "what's the purpose behind all this butchery?"

Javik saw something in the readouts, and cursed in Prothean, a harsh and guttural sound, "those demons are making weapons..."

EDI chimed in over the intercoms, "correct, it seems as if the Paladins are conducting research into biotics."

"I thought all research into quarian biotics resulted in failure," said Shiala.

"And death," continued Liara, "I've seen the reports...it seemed that this hasn't stopped the Paladins.  It gets worse."

The crew remained silent, a pregnant pause awaited Liara's explanation.

"The batarians were selling the refugees to someone in the quarian Flotilla."

"We need to notify them," said Ashrai, her voice shuddering in rage, "stop this somehow."

"We can't," replied Ashley, "Garmok's fleet is strewn across all those systems.  They've issued a general alert against the Normandy."

"That's nonsense," protested Shiala, "we can just cloak past the front lines!"

"Ashley is right," answered Liara, "the Council has told us to back off to avoid further incident.  It looks like it's up to Garrus on this one."

"Tali's going to murder someone when she hears," muttered Ashley, " what do we do in the meantime?"

Liara glanced to Kirahhe, who nodded.

"Miranda and Dr. Wiks have managed to crack some intel, using some resource of Kasumi's."

Everyone was aware the woman was a repository of secrets attained over a lifetime of theft.  Still, this was Kasumi, and one didn't ask where she was concerned.  It was just better that way.

"We may have tracked down the Shade," continued Liara, "rogue STG seemed to be honing in on the location."

"So it's back to Omega," finished Kirrahe, "and it seems Aria T'Loak wants a piece of the action as well."

"Of course she does," groaned Ashley, "let's just hope she doesn't stab us in the back this time."

"Hasn't done it yet," answered Liara, "though there's a first time for everything."

"I'll tell Joker to make course corrections," announced EDI.

"In the meantime," said Liara, "get some rest."

"What about Shepard?" asked Ashley.

It had been the question everyone had been avoiding, and the room went noticeably silent again.

"He's stabilized," replied Liara hesitantly, "Dr. Chakwas said he should be up and around by now, though I don't know if he's up to a mission just yet."

"Knowing that one," offered Shiala, "I'm sure he'll be jumping off the walls by the time we reach Omega."

The others laughed.  The First Human SPECTRE had been through so much; it seemed impossible to consider anything would keep him down.  They all knew the man from the myth, of course, but they all trusted him.  Shepard would pull through, he always did.

Liara sniffed, "sadly, I'm inclined to agree with you..."

They all turned to go to their stations, though Liara lingered a moment.  In her hands, Liara held a bit of metal, seemingly unimportant, but priceless to her.  It was one of Shepard's old dog tags, of a pair, from back before he'd died.  The other half belonged to Jack.

"Are you alright, Dr. T'soni?" asked EDI.

"We demand so much of him," Liara sighed, "it doesn't seem fair."

"Shepard has never complained," offered EDI, "he has made it his purpose in life to be there for his allies."

"That is why I'm afraid," replied Liara, "what if it's too much?"

EDI pondered a moment before replying, "I think for Shepard, it is as natural a state as breathing.  I learned compassion from him.  So while I may not speak for him, I doubt he would consider it a burden...so long as he has his allies."

Liara smirked at the last, "why EDI, that was almost profound...and thank you."

She could almost hear the amusement in the AI's voice, "besides, if it's Shepard's health and energy you are concerned about, I wouldn't worry."

Something in the playful tone of that statement alerted Liara, "how do you figure?"

"Jack went into the room about an hour ago," said EDI, "and privacy mode was engaged almost immediately."

The asari blinked, "you can't be suggesting..."

EDI said nothing.  Liara began to walk more forcefully out of the room.  As she passed the security scans on her way to the elevator, Samantha Traynor attempted to stop her, to ask something of the asari.  Something in Liara's eyes told the yeoman to back the hell away.  Liara rushed into the elevator with nary a sound, and no words at all.  Samantha could swear she saw the ripple of biotics flaring across Liara's body.

"Do I want to know what that was about EDI?" asked Traynor.

"The behavior of you meatbags often mystifies me," replied the AI coquettishly...

Traynor slowly turned to the front of the ship, glaring at the back of EDI's android body in the cockpit.

EDI slowly turned in her chair, smirking at Samantha, as her voice chimed over the intercom, "that was a joke."

**************

In Liara’s office…

Jack settled against the bed, reveling in the weight of Shepard atop her.  His eyes were closed, his breathing soft and steady.  She smiled to herself, running her hands through his hair, not wanting to let go of what she was feeling.

This roused him, as Shepard's face moved from the valley of her breasts, “you still awake?”

She stretched slightly underneath him, “mmm.  I can barely feel my legs, you fucker!”

They both chuckled at each other, as Jack pushed Shepard down, settling herself on top of him.  He looked up at her wryly, a leering grin on his face.

Jack idly bit her finger, her eyes narrowed in reverie, “I said barely…”

She rocked her hips slightly, issuing a pleased sigh as Shepard reacted to her ministrations.  Jack arched her back, as she felt him grow ready again, a predatory glint in his eye.

He laughed back at her, “good, then let’s see what we can do about that…”

A feral growl issued from her lips, "I'm going to fuck you dry…"

 

Before they could get started, the doors cycled open, and a lone figure rushed into the room.  Liara closed the door shut behind her, engaging the locks.  She turned, staring at the both of them silently; her eyes were wide open.  Jack and Shepard were transfixed, unsure how to react.  They were both naked; it was obvious what they'd been doing (and quite urgently too).

Jack cracked a grin at Liara, "if you were worried about his health, there's certainly nothing wrong with him down there..."

Shepard's eyes went wider, trying to disengage from Jack's hips.  She clenched her thighs, rendering the action impossible for him, as his hands left more impressions on the taut skin of her buttocks.

Liara's lip curled upwards slightly, as she cocked her head to the side.  She arched an eyebrow, walking forward slowly.  Shepard could hardly beleive his eyes.  He'd never seen anyone EMERGE from clothing before, but Liara chose that moment to do so.  Her eyes glimmered with a wild spark.  It was a blissful agony for Shepard, watching Liara strut slowly towards him, her naked body lightly moving across the floor.  Jack laughed, still pinning him down to the bed.

"I can't beleive you didn't call me...tell me you were awake!" chided Liara.

This sobered Shepard.  He sighed deeply, glancing at her.

"I'm...sorry..."

Liara shook her head, as she reached the side of the bed, caressing his hair, "you never need to apologize to us..."

Jack nodded somberly, looking down, though saying nothing.

T'Soni quickly brought her lips to Shepard's, draining all the breath from his mouth in a hungry, demanding kiss.  He was left speechless, looking into Liara's eyes.

She bit his ear lightly, "you will...however...be expected to make it up to us..."

Shepard looked to Jack, at a loss for words.

Jack grinned, then shrugged, "that's what you get for almost dying on us...again..."

"We have plenty of time before we exit FTL," announced Liara, "let's just make sure not to kill him of exhaustion."

Jack laughed, thrusting her hips slightly, "you see the look on his face?  There's little chance of that."

Liara bit her thumb playfully, eyeing the both of them with a predatory grin...

Some logical part of Shepard's mind told him that he needed to grasp the current situation first, get the whole story of what had happened while he was out.  He shook his head, he had nearly died, and not for the first time.  The nightmares had seemed unending.  For the first time in what seemed like eternity, things were finally clear.  What mattered to him was here, in this room, with him.  He issued a sigh, almost a growl.  

Suddenly, Shepard didn't give a damn about anything else but staying awake for what came next...


	46. Repercussions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 46

Kolyat Krios was currently lying on a cot, in the Medical Bay of the Dover.  As he took in the sterile surroundings of the metal bulkheads, he sighed.  A red-headed human physician arched an eyebrow at the green-skinned patient.

"Considering that you should 'ave been killed," quipped Dr. Michel, "I think you should be more 'appy."

The drell smirked back at the attractive young doctor, "I'm more concerned about your other patient."

They both turned to the cot beside him.  An asari Maiden, dressed in black flowing silks, was clutching her sides tightly, her back flat against the wall, rocking.  She seemed to be muttering to herself.

"Stupid...so stupid...she's going to kill me..." whispered Falere.

Before they could say anything, the turian SPECTRE in command of the ship walked in.

"How are they doctor?"

She smirked at Garrus, "please, just Michel, you've saved my life enough times to earn it."

Garrus shrugged slightly, cocking his head to the side with that carefree attitude that she admired.  Even though he'd endured so much, weathered such suffering, he could still be cocksure and positive.  It gave her hope for their mission, which looked bleaker every day.

Dr. Michel nodded, turning to Falere, "contrary to all current medical doctrine, they are both healthy and well.  In fact, better than..."

Garrus arched an eyebrow, then cursed as a chime issued from his ear piece.

"Major," said Elana over the comm, "Samara is on her way."

"Crap," he spat, "escort her over, make sure you have your omnitool primed to stun."

"Affirmative..."

Dr. Michel scoffed, "oh come now, I remember 'er, it can't be that bad..."

"You...you don't know my...mother," stammered Falere, "it will be worse..."

"What she said," rasped Garrus, checking the slide of his pistol, making sure stun ammo was loaded.

He remembered fighting alongside Samara.  She was a veritable storm on the battlefield.  Entire battalions of Collectors were torn asunder in her wake.  By all accounts, Falere was a chip off the old block.  He really hoped he didn't have to come between them.  All too soon, the servomechanism of the medbay doors cycled open.  

Garrus turned to greet the asari ambassador, "Samara, so good to-"

"You as well Garrus," she replied curtly, "although you know why I am here..."

Falere visibly flinched, but got to her feet.  She kept her back straight, as she stood in front of her mother.  Samara said nothing, squaring her shoulders, the muscles along her thighs and arms tensing as if preparing for a fight.  Garrus' hands began to twitch, and he prepared his omnitool.  He glanced at Elana, then back at Samara, and finally to the young asari before him.

"Falere," said Garrus, between clenched mandibles, "you have something to say to the Justicar?"

The youth reacted as if slapped.  She blinked, shaking her head, and then drew straight again.  She stolidly looked her mother in the eyes, "I was responsible for the biotic attack on Lesuss."

Dr. Michel coughed, though she said nothing.  Only a fool would call what had happened on the surface an "attack."  The EVENT was more akin to a hurricane, a biotic tornado.  The song of the "Siren of Lesuss" would not soon be forgotten.  Samara nodded, silently urging her daughter to continue.

Falere swallowed, but betrayed no other sign of dismay, "the attack which saved the colony was orchestrated by me.  However, to do so, I joined minds with another, feeding on his energy, as well my training from rachni Queen Athena."

Samara nodded again, yet still she remained silent.  Kolyat clenched his hand into a fist, to stop the shuddering.  He shook his head, drawing close to Samara.

"It isn't her fault!" he exclaimed, "I asked her to do it!"

Kolyat was halfway between both asari, prepared to place himself between mother and daughter, when Samara turned to gaze at him.  The young drell felt like he'd been hit by a hammer, yet stood his ground beneath that unyielding stare.

"Thanks to you," Samara whispered, "my daughter will suffer.  You forced her to defy the tenets which were her greatest source of honor, and survival."

"She saved us," replied Kolyat, his hand unconsciously gripping Falere's.

Samara turned to her daughter, "and can you honestly tell me that you haven't changed?"

Falere finally looked down, pondering for a moment, before raising her head,  "I will not lie…once, perhaps, I could have resisted this call.  But the experience will be with me forever, a warmth I can still feel, a taste I yet yearn for."

Samara sighed, shaking her head.

"It does not own me," said Falere, "but I will not deny it, and I certainly will desire more, eventually."

The Justicar nodded, "at least you are honest with yourself.  It is a trait too few of your sisters possess."

"I don't see the problem here," said Kolyat, "I am still alive."

"Happenstance," replied Samara, "none have ever survived the embrace of an Ardat Yakshi."

"But he did," offered Garrus, gesturing to Dr. Michel, "do we know why?"

All eyes turned to her.  Dr. Michel felt a tingle go up her spine, and fidgeted with her fingers.  When the young couple had been brought aboard, Garrus had practically shoved them both into her medbay, urging Michel to find the answers before Samara arrived.  She sighed, before looking at all of them in turn, and finally to Garrus.  She couldn't help but smile.  There were few in the galaxy that could inspire her to square off against an asari Justicar.  Michel wasn't surprised the turian was one of them.

The doctor brought up her omnitool, synching to the display monitor, and showed brain scans of her patients,  "I studied both their vitals, and noticed a unique sequence of events in their brainwave activity…they are in ‘armony."

From what she could surmise, Falere's bond with Kolyat did indeed consume his entire psyche, a transferrence of energy that threatened to overload his senses.  However, at a pivotal juncture, the young drell entered into Solipsism, reliving all the memories of his life in one perfect moment.  Perhaps, she reasoned, this feedback loop opposed the flow of energy from Falere, causing the asari to feed some of her own neural energy back to Kolyat.  It sounded more like mysticism than science, but it was all the explanation they had.

"It seems like a defense mechanism," stated Dr. Michel, "one that forced both subjects to live out each others memories."

Samara shook her head, "this seems...implausible.  How can we know for sure this will happen again?"

Michel shuffled on her feet, "well...they will 'ave to...try again..."

Falere looked down at her feet, as Kolyat stood dumbfounded.

Garrus raised his hands, "wait, you aren't suggesting..."

"It's the only way to be sure," explained Michel.

Kolyat clenched his shuddering fist, "are you alright with this Falere?"

Falere bit her lip, hanging her head in resignation, "let's get this over with..."

Garrus could understand their unease.  For many asari, the joining of minds was a private matter, one not entered into lightly.  The turian wouldn't like it any better if he was forced to have sex in front of his own damn mother.  He turned to Elana, who stood openly bemused.

"Er...let's get out of here," he said, grabbing Elana by the arm as he left the room.

Dr. Michel shook her head, "honestly, 'ee is so juvenile sometimes..."

She turned to the young couple, as she attached electrodes to each of their temples, "I am sorry..."

They both barely noticed her, looking straight into each others' eyes.  Dr. Michel turned to Samara, nodding, and grabbed her hand.  The Justicar was stone-faced.  Though Garrus couldn't have seen it, Michel could tell...Samara was scared.  The doctor squeezed Samara's hand in sympathy.

Samara blinked several times, dumbfounded, then smiled, "thank you...

"For what?"

"For giving them a chance."

Once she left, Michel closed the door shut, and sealed the privacy blast shields to the medbay windows.  Blinking back tears, she rapped her head against the bulkhead softly, astounded at Samara's fearlessness.  She prayed to God she'd never have to face such adversity…

Falere glanced once at her mother, nodding, then closed her eyes.  She breathed in deeply, before turning her gaze to Kolyat, "you don't have to do this."

The drell shook his head, "yes I do...I want to..."

Falere gripped both his hands in hers, shutting her eyes again.

"Then...together...let us...embrace eternity..."

When she opened her eyes again, they were solid black orbs...and the world for each of them became a flow of biotics, a wave that threatened to swallow them both...

 

In the portside of the Dover, Garrus poured himself a drink at the bar, and knocked it back in one shot.  He wondered again why the hell SPECTREs took this job.  He wasn't getting paid enough to deal with the stress, no matter how exhorbitant that pay actually was.  The turian shook his head.  Then again, the best of the best needed to do SOMETHING to keep themselves busy…

He turned as the entry to the lounge cycled open.  Tali came through the doors, her movements faltering somewhat.  Kasumi was right behind her, as was Miranda.  Garrus didn't have to look at her face, knowing from body language alone that something was wrong.

"Is it Samara?" he asked, "did it work?"

Miranda shook her head, "we don't know yet...but we DID get a message from Liara..."

Kasumi eased Tali into a nearby chair.  Garrus sat in the one opposite her, and took Tali's hands into his own, squeezing them lightly.  He knew her to be passionate, it was one of Tali's most endearing qualities, and he loved her for it.  But this was something different.  He'd not seen her like this since Shepard had died, and the feeling left a cold lump in the pit of his stomach.  Garrus said nothing, waiting for Tali to find the words.  He brought his hand up, brushing hair from her face.

Tali's hands shuddered as she looked Garrus in the eyes, "we know where the missing quarian Pilgrims have gone..."

Garrus breathed in sharply.  He knew it had been eating away at Tali, she had put this off long enough.  The asari were safe, he wouldn't deny her this anymore.

"Where are they?  Who took them?"

"Someone with the Flotilla..."

He shook his head, "come again?"

"Liara broke the code," explained Miranda, "after getting back from Karshaan.  The batarians have been selling Pilgrims to a traitor in the Flotilla."

Garrus shook his head, "for what purpose?"

Tali shook her head, "we didn't put it together until Padok Wiks compared the Orthos logs against Liara's analysis..."

"They are doing biotic research," continued Kasumi, "the Paladins are turning quarians into weapons."

Garrus shook his head.  This wasn't right.  He had been caught up on the Paladins, and knew they were involved with salarian STG, the batarian coup attempt, and former Cerberus militants.  However, they had also been involved in the dark energy experiments on Feros...

Garrus glanced Kasumi and Revenant, "this is too convenient.  Clan Verrad had a hand in Feros, and raiders abducted asari on Lesuss.  In both cases, Remnant were involved, and seemed to ignore the enemy."

“And now, the Paladins are turning quarians into biotics,” said Miranda, “somehow weaponizing a species, though killing them in the process.  Wait…Lessus”

Tali realized it too, a moment later, "oh Keelah...the missing Ardat Yakshi..."

“Using them to study the effects of biotic mutation,” gasped Miranda, “grafting the traits onto the quarians perhaps?”

Garrus shook his head, “it seems the only explanation, but how?”

Dr. Michel walked into the room, a smile on her face, "they did it!  Falere and Kolyat are both still alive!  We were right!"

The look on Garrus' face sent chills down Michel’s spine, "what 'appened?"

Garrus stared for a moment, taking a deep breath, "bring Samara and Falere...we know why the raiders were abducting Ardat Yakshi..."

Michel didn't wait for clarification, turning on her heel and exiting the room.

Garrus turned to the others, "help Wiks scrub through that information, I want a vector on those shipments..."

Miranda nodded, "already on it."

Lawson gestured to Kasumi, and the theif patted Tali once on the shoulder before heading out as well.  Garrus dropped to his knees, grabbing Tali's hands.  She seemed so frail now, like the young woman, barely more than a girl, that he'd met so long ago.

"Tali?" he whispered.

The quarian looked up at him, rage in her eyes, tears running down her face, "someone out there is killing our people, killing the asari as well...to turn us into damn weapons..."

Garrus gripped her tight, rocking back and forth, "we'll find them..."

"One of my own people is doing this," spat Tali, "and I'm going to kill them for it."

Something about the way Tali said it sent a shiver through Garrus.  He parted from her, cupping her face in his hands.  He saw the glimmer in her eyes, the same look he'd had after losing his squad on Omega.  It was that fear and rage that he'd drowned himself in to survive.  Now, he was seeing it in the eyes of the woman he loved, and it scared him.

"Tali," he whispered, "I've been right where you are...but you aren't alone..."

She seemed as if she wanted to say something, but the words caught in her throat.

"We’ll make them pay," he said, "but we are going to do this smart...and we'll do this together."

The floodgates opened, and Tali kissed Garrus once, before sobbing into his shoulder.  Then something in Garrus hardened.  He felt this overwhelming desire to protect Tali, and this unyielding need to destroy the Paladin bastards that had done all of this.  Tali felt the shift in his body language.  She withdrew, wiping her tears.  Garrus got to his feet, drawing Tali up with him.

"It going to be a long journey to the other side," he warned, "but I'm with you."

Tali nodded, her voice harsh, but hopeful, "let's get these bastards..."


	47. Haestrom Redux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 47

Garrus looked out the window of his shuttle, disbelieving his eyes.  Back aboard the Dover, Steve Cortez lay silent.  Even Revenant, who was handling the support functions back on the ship, said nothing.  The bright purple blare on the planet below momentarily blinded Vakarian, and the turian’s hands trembled slightly.  Tali slipped her hand into his, and he gripped it tightly.

The quarian shook her head, staring into the space beyond the exit of the shuttle.  The planet below them was an old ruin of ancient quarian civilization.  Once pristine and lush, aeons before, the surface was a husk of rusted buildings and burnt wastelands.  Even now, Tali could remember the last time she had visited the planet.  It was not an experience she ever thought to repeat.  She’d lost friends and squadmates on this damn world.

“Haestrom,” she whispered, “what are they doing here?”

Though they hadn’t yet approached planetside, Garrus’ hackles were on edge, still waiting for the unseen enemy.  He shook his head, “I’m more concerned as to how they got here undetected.”

 

“When we cracked Corporal Toombs’ communiqué,” said Miranda, back aboard the ship, “I couldn’t believe that the Paladins would have these kind of resources.”

No small wonder.  This was a quarian seed colony, a core world.  It didn’t matter that the surface was uninhabitable.  With the assistance of the geth contingent, there was a real chance to terraform the atmosphere once more.  The pride of the quarian people would not allow such history to be forgotten.

Padok Wiks nodded, “if the Dalatrassy is supporting them, it’s no small wonder.”

Tali clenched her fist, “I just want to know which of my people condoned this…”

The final clue had come from the mission on Lesuss.  The Orthos data had been an endless trove of information, but it was the Dampening signal on Lesuss that had led them to the truth.  Asari had been disappearing, specifically the Ardat Yakshi.  Quarian Pilgrims had gone missing as well.  Originally, it was thought to be the work of batarian slavers, but the truth was far more sinister.

“Somewhere on that base,” grunted Tali through clenched teeth, “one of our people is torturing asari, in order to turn quarians into biotics…”

“Still uncertain why, or how,” said Padok Wiks, “all previous biotic experiments on quarians resulted in large fatalities.”

Garrus turned to them all, “well then, let’s suit up and go in…”

“Vakarian-Major,” came a geth voice, “we wish to join the mission.”

The turian tapped his intercom, “we need someone guarding the ship Revenant.  Besides, we’re still unsure if there’s a dark energy weapon deployed in the base.”

“Which means you need nonbiotics available to enact a rescue,” finished Revenant, “very well, we will standby and continue scanning.”

Garrus just hoped that Revenant’s hacking attempts would keep the Dover clear of all scans from the base.  He shook his head.  Without Revenant, they would have had no chance.  It simply would not have been possible to cloak the Dover AND subdue the scans without his help.  As it was, Padok Wiks and Miranda had their hands full supporting him back on the ship.  For all intents and purposes, the geth was tied to the vessel, using its systems as a signal booster.

Garrus turned to the rest of the boarding party, and sighed.  He should have known there’d be no keeping Tali out of this.  He could understand her feelings, but it didn’t mean he had to like it.  She had a dead expression on her face, as she checked her guns once more.  Garrus glanced at Elana, who nodded.  He’d asked his fellow Turian to join them, primarily to act as a bodyguard for the quarian.  They needed two hackers on this mission, so Kasumi had joined them.  The only other choice was Tali, skilled as she was.  Garrus had pleaded with Elana to head up the second team, to allay his fears.

Pytar’s specialty lay with demolitions and intelligence.  She’d want to be part of his team, rather than Tali’s.  He was asking her to go against training, but she didn’t hesitate.  Initial scans had singled out large heat spikes, likely the captured asari and quarians.  Nearby cold zones, surrounded by large energy signatures, had suggested a battery of data servers.  Elana’s squad would be responsible for rescuing the refugees, while Garrus’ team focused on sabotaging the base.

Garrus turned to the rest of the crew, “Zaeed, Samara, you head out with Elana and Tali.”

He faced the last few squadmates, “Kasumi, Falere, and Kolyat, you’re with me…”

“Finally, a chance to stretch my legs,” Kasumi smirked, “Zaeed never takes me anywhere.”

Zaeed rolled his eyes, as he checked his guns once more.  Kolyat and Falere said nothing, just nodding.  They had remained silent the entire time, simply holding hands and stealing looks at each other.  Garrus didn’t pretend to understand the bond they now shared.  Suffice it to say, he was happy Samara hadn’t decided to simply kill them.

It was a new revalation for the Ardat Yakshi.  Never before had one survived merging minds with an asari afflicted with the mutation.  However, if one drell was so capable, perhaps others might be as well.  It could mean a new lease on life for all Ardat Yakshi.  Dr. Michel had been beside herself with wonder, amazed how species entire solar systems apart could have adapted so.  Immune to the affliction, Kolyat’s drell physiology complemented Falere perfectly.

“There’s a plan for the universe,” she’d insisted, “whether we realize it or not.”

Garrus didn’t know how he felt about all that.  As he looked at the looming airlock of the base, however, the turian was sure of one thing.  Whatever the reasoning, the experiments on this base were an abomination.  He would destroy whatever the Paladin’s had created with his own hands…

“Will wait here until needed,” said Padok Wiks, “good luck…”

The SPECTRE waited for the airlock to cycle open, securing the exit with Elana and Zaeed by his side.  The main entrance was clear, so he gestured to the rest of the team.  Garrus turned to Elana, unsure what to say.  There was so much history between them, and now he was asking her to forego her instincts to bodyguard Tali instead.

Elana smirked, shaking her head and clapping him on the arm, “don’t worry, lover-boy, I’ll bring her back safe.”

Garrus nodded, turning to the rest of the party, “remember people, we’re here to save the refugees, then scuttle the base.  We don’t know what state of mind the victims will be in...”

Garrus placed his hand on Tali’s shoulder, squeezing, “so be careful.”

Tali put her hand on his, and smiled, before turning to follow Zaeed and Samara, Elana bringing up the rear.  Garrus continued to watch, until Tali’s team rounded a corner and vanished.  He then faced Kolyat and Falere, and still couldn’t believe he was taking them on this mission.  Garrus knew they were accomplished fighters, but they were still little more than children in his eyes.  They should be living out their lives in peace, especially in light of recent events.  But as always, more pressing matters forced the decision from his hands.

“Alright you two,” said Garrus, “check your corners, stay in tight formation, and we’ll get through this alive…”

He led the the team through the entrance and down a hallway, referring to his omnitool.

‘I hope,’ he thought.

 

Elsewhere on the base…

Zaeed directed his team through the cold, empty hallways of the facility.  Through the windows, he could clearly see the planet Haestrom beyond.  It was a damn ghost world, not a single thing was alive down there.  The silence of the base unnerved him even more.

“Where are all the bloody people?” he spat.

Samara nodded, “indeed, one would think there would be more gaurds.”

“They never expected anyone to find this place,” suggested Elana, “in my experience, it takes a special kind of crazy to stomach these kind of experiments.”

Zaeed nodded, “makes sense, this place gives me the fucking creeps, I wouldn’t volunteer to get stationed here either.”

The team came upon a locked barricade.

“According to my omnitool,” said Tali, “the largest set of heat signatures is here, most likely the refugees.”

Zaeed nodded, “crack it…”

Without preamble, Tali began to hack into the door systems.  Before long, she had bypassed them, and the doors cycled open.  The team filed through the barricade, and into a large room.  They were beneath a large dome.  It seemed as if a giant assembly line dominated the laboratory.  Everywhere Tali turned, all she could see was an ocean of bodies.  It reminded her of the pods on Ilos, where crypts had housed the dead populace of a forgotten race.

"What the bloody hell is this?" demanded Zaeed.

Tali went to the nearest computer terminal, siphoning through the information, omni-tool cutting through the encryption with ease. Her eyes widened as she saw the readouts, and her face began to pale.

"Are they all dead?"

She shook her head, looking down at the base of the pods.  A series of lab tables had several figures restrained.  The quarians and asari left alive were currently being vivisected on those tables, their screams drowned out by the whirring mechanism of the machinery.

Tali's hands shook, as she began to hack the software, "we need to turn those damn things off!"

The rest of the team sprung into action.

"Goddess," whispered Samara, barely able to look at the figure of a young quarian male, his body splayed open on the table, "how are we supposed to save them?"

"See if you can reverse the incision protocols," said Elana to Tali, through gritted teeth.

Zaeed turned at that statement, arching an eyebrow.

Pytar shuddered, "I've seen too many salarian experiments like this...it'll feel good to stop one..."

 

On the other side of the base...

Kasumi had her ear against the wall of a reinforced doorway.  She couldn't understand how it had been so easy; there hadn't been any sentries.  She wasn't one to look a gift-horse in the mouth.  Still, the theif couldn't shake her misgivings.

As she sliced through another console with her omni-tool, Kasumi turned, "not so sure I like this boss; the whole place is giving me the heeby-jeebies."

Garrus grunted, "you and me both, so let's blow this place to hell, and get out of here..."

The doors opened, and the team cycled through, immediately assaulted by a blinding light.  A beam that dominated the room rose high into the vaulted ceiling, where an inverse pyramid soaked the energy, sending the signal down planetside.  Garrus tuned the filters on his visor, as the rest of the team acclimated to the brightness.  Through the windows, he could see the surface the planet, in profile from orbit.  The effect was unsettling, and Garrus had a hard time determining which way was up.

The turian's eyes picked up on a group of shadows against the pillar of light, and drew his gun.

"Hold it right there," he said, unable to focus on the shrouded figure.

It was tall, and seemed not to hear him.  Garrus released the safety on his sidearm, the loud whine of the rifle echoing off the bulkheads clearly.  The figure turned, several sets of bright yellow eyes glaring at Garrus like white-hot pokers.

Garrus shook his head, "a Collector?!"

The voice reverberated throughout the room, shaking the team to their bones.

"No...THE Collector..."

The voice reminded Garrus of Harbinger's thrall, the leader of the Collectors that had been destroyed at the galactic core.  Atrayus narrowed his eyes at Garrus, recognition dawning on it.

"Yes," said the Collector, "we saw you, you who tried to kill us, yet you failed."

"Well," quipped Garrus, "if at first you don't succeed..."

"You die," spat Atrayus, "I tire of this..."

The figure jumped into the light, disappearing as a yellow flash traveled through the blue beam onto the planet below.  Garrus began to follow, but was stopped when he saw a series of bright lights cocoon from the planet beyond the miniature relay.

"That can’t be good," uttered Kasumi.

The room began to quake, the beam fluctuating uncontrollably.  Several masses began to exit the beam, wrapped in the lights.  The energy sloughed off the figures in layers, revealing husks.  Yet these were unlike any husks Garrus had ever seen before, they were Prothean.  He’d seen the corpses on Ilos, but now the shambling Husks were suffused with an angry red glow atop cracked and ashen skin.  It seemed the ghosts of cycles past sought to claim vengeance…

On instinct, Falere raised her biotic fields.  The husks opened their mouths, screaming, as waves of biotic energy crashed against the bubble.  The young asari shrieked in agony blood trickling from her nose.

"Feels like that dampening field," she staggered, "I can feel them tearing at my mind."

"Plant the charges!" yelled Kolyat, drawing a pistol and firing "before they overwhelm us!"

Garrus nodded at Kasumi, throwing her the explosives.

"Cloak and drop the bombs," he said.

Garrus turned to Kolyat, tossing the young drell his pistol, "well son, time to earn our keep…"


	48. Goodbye Heastrom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 48

Zaeed and Samara were rushing through the hall, having left Tali and Elana behind to extract information from the research labs.  The mercenary and the Justicar swept the hallways, which were now awash in the echoes of blaring alarms.  The refugees were in tow, led by a scrawny quarian named Veetor.  Zaeed shook his head, motioning for Samara to stop.  Several of the former test subjects all but collapsed, Veetor covering his mouth, as he began to cough up blood.

"What the hell were those things?!" demanded Zaeed.

Samara shook her head, turning to the young quarian, “I cannot say.”

Veetor cradled one of the young asari against him, leaning on her for support as much as to comfort her.  He shook his head as well, "I can...hear the songs, but it hurts my mind..."

Samara remembered her first experience as a biotic, recalled Falere’s explanation of her joining with the drell.  It was a sacred rite, intimate, and shaped the souls of asari everywhere.  Biotics were not something that could simply be…grafted upon the unwilling.  Forcing the burden of the Ardat Yakshi upon them was further cruelty.

"This curse is not for you, young one," Samara nodded, "but what were they doing to you?  I thought these sisters were being harvested to turn quarians into biotics..."

The secret shame of the asari was not something to be toyed with.  How many Ardat Yakshi had been…sacrificed to this research?  How many quarian youths had died?  All of it had been to create more damn weapons.  Samara’s body trembled in rage.  Before Veetor could answer, the surrounding walls crumpled away, as if melted.  Shrieks surrounded them, and Prothean undead appeared from everywhere.

Zaeed screamed in rage, firing into the mass of husks.  Samara brought up her biotic shields, as the refugees began the slow retreat to the shuttle.  Zaeed cursed, letting his rifle drop as the heat sinks redlined.  He grasped his belt of grenades, tossing several into the approaching horde.  The flames engulfed the creatures, but one managed to force its way through, thrusting a flaming arm into Massani's torso.  Zaeed shouted in agony, falling backwards, as the husk bore down on top of him.

At the last moment, Zaeed placed his leg between them, his boot pushing the husk's face backwards.  The human grabbed his combat knife, ramming the end through the creature's neck, and out the other side.  He kicked, holding onto the weapon, as the husk jerked backwards, dead.  Zaeed clamped his fist on the horrible wound, flailing backwards as he drew his pistol, firing into the approaching husks, now cresting the mound of fire.  Massani raged, cursing the monsters in futility.  He kept backing away, refusing to give up, though he knew he was a dead man.

"Zaeed!" shouted Samara, straining to keep the bubble standing.

Massani gestured to her, "get them the hell out of here!"

Before either could say a word, a biotic singularity gathered up the mass of husks.  Another blast slammed into the vortex, and a torrent of flame and energy tore through the husks.

Zaeed turned to see the young quarian, Veetor, his arm still wrapped in blue flame.  One of the asari grabbed him, the hue of her own biotics dissapating.  Messani smirked, slapping medigel onto his wound, ignoring the burning pain as he got to his feet.

He clapped Veetor on the shoulder, "you two saved my life..."

"You saved our’s first...so let's just get out of here...and thank each other later."

Zaeed grinned, slapping a new set of thermal clips into his weapons, then nodding at Samara, "you heard the lad..."

 

In the center of the base…

Daro'Xen had once been an admiral in the quarian Flotilla, her specialty was technology, specifically advanced AI and warfare.  The Reaper War had changed all that.  Commander Shepard, in his push for peace, had allied with that spineless Admiral Zaal'Koris, forging a union with the Geth.  Xen punched her fist into the terminal before her.  The geth should have been their slaves.  Not only had the legacy of the quarian race been taken from her, so had her command.

The Flotilla had kept her on as Admiral, but she had no fleets, resigned to a paltry command of a handful of engineers.  What was she to accomplish with that?  Growing weary of the empty platitudes of her people, Xen had turned to the Paladins, who offered the quarian race a new path to power...the Ardat Yakshi.  It was an amazing mutation, to be sure, and one rife with opportunity.  Xen had immediately seen the potential.  If she could find a way to harness that energy, and graft it onto quarian test subjects, it could pave the way to new advances, perhaps even expansion…

Of course, Atrayus had his own plans for the experiments, one Xen had not fully understood...until now.

As she looked at the schematics before her, Xen shook her head, "you are trying to revive the Protheans..."

Through the comm system, a guttural voice emitted its reply, "yes, but not as they were...my new Protheans shall be the masters of the galaxy."

Xen shook her head, "these...things...are little better than husks."

“And your experiments failed to raise them above such status, “said Atrayus, " but once I complete the Typhon project, all of this will change..."

Xen shook her head, the grafting of the Ardat Yakshi genome onto young quarians had been successful, but the casualties had been too high.  Her race would never survive the procedure, not without refinement.  She needed more time, but she had none left.  The experiment had failed in helping to raise the Prothean husks to sentience.  Atrayus didn’t care about her “tangential success.”

So now, the Collector bastard was going to steal her remaining test subjects, and feed them to this “Typhon.”  She'd heard of the project before, some Reaper answer to the Dark Energy conundrum, back when the Leviathans had still ruled the galaxy.

"I fail to see how an ages old riddle could help us now..."

Atrayus pondered a moment, staring at the quarian on the view screen, then nodded, "survive those two...and I may tell you..."

Xen turned, coming face to face with two figures, a turian female she'd never seen before...and...

"Tali'Zorah...vas Normandy..."

Tali stared at her former ally, shaking her head, “were you so bitter at the loss of the geth…that you would do this to our people?”

“Our PEOPLE,” Xen sneered back, “have been forced to receed.  And for what?  Regaining some ball of mud?”

“Rannoch is our home.”

“Which we share with geth…SLAVES!  We have become weak…I will make us strong!”

Tali shook her head, a menacing glare in her eye, “no…you will be dead!”

The flash from both engineers’ omnitools was blinding.  Elana cursed, trying to keep up with the movement.  A turret sprung to life in front of her.  Beside it, an omnidroid appeared as well, issuing a threatening beep as it targeted her…

“SHIT!”

Elana hurled herself to the side, slamming hard against a nearby table.  She almost bit off her tongue, as she took cover against the hail of bullets and flame that followed.  Garrus was going to owe her for this, assuming she and Tali survived…

 

Running through the hallways of the facility…

Garrus raced along at a mad clip.  Kolyat and Falere had long since escaped to the shuttle.  He tightly hugged against a wall, and began firing back at the approaching husks.

Vakarian glanced at the timer on his watch, “not long, where’s the damn dropship?”

Almost on cue, a large blast decimated the approaching husks, as Kasumi hovered the craft outside the windows, Padok Wiks manning the turret.  Garrus braced himself against the vacuum, riding the force onto the surface of the shuttle…

The plan had worked beautifully, and he’d maintained his pressure seals for this exact purpose.  He grinned, Tali would have called him a fool for this maneuver.  He looked back to the hole in the base, as several husks flailed about, freezing in the vacuum of space. 

“All aboard!” said Goto over his intercom.

He laughed at Kasumi, “DAMN RIGHT!”

Garrus was barely secure before Kasumi gunned the motors, speeding away from the tattered bulkhead.

“Tali!” shouted Garrus into his intercom, “if you can hear this, take cover, we’re coming to you!”

He heard only static.  Vakerian only had a moment to wonder, before he saw a bright blue lights from behind the base.

“The bombs are going off now?!” demanded Garrus.

“That isn’t the bombs,” said Kasumi, a shudder in her breath, a pit forming in her stomach.

“VAKERIAN MAJOR!” shouted Revenant over the intercoms, “multiple FTL contacts!”

“Half the damn batarian fleet just jumped in-sector!” warned Miranda.

“Dover, stay cloaked!” shouted Garrus, “Kasumi, bring the shuttle around to Tali’s signal!”

“There’s no time!” shouted Falere, pointing at the cocooning lights on the horizon.

Then there was no more room for argument.  Light and sound assaulted their senses, and the batarian bombardment began…

 

In the heart of the facility…

A series of explosions shook the research base, a great blue light blinding them all.  The walls crumbled, the windows were blown inwards.  Shards of glass flew everywhere.

Xen turned, cursing at the batarian fleets on her viewscreen, “those bastards…are they trying to kill us?!”

A blast deafened her, and an impact shook her body.  Xen gripped her abdomen, as a sharp pain assaulted her senses.  Her palm came away bloody, her legs crumpling as she collapsed to the floor.  Someone walked into Xen’s field of vision, kicking away her fallen sidearm.

Tali’s shotgun was smoking, and she shook her head at her fallen enemy, “you were the best of us, but no more…”

Xen lay bleeding on the floor, her vision going hazy.

She could still hear Atrayus' voice in her ear, "a pity...although you still have a choice..."

Xen shook her head, knowing what the Collector offered, "no..."

Atrayus grumbled, "don't be illogical...it is the only way for you to survive..."

Xen spat out blood, looking at the orb near the communication terminal.

"Yes..." said the droning voice, "place it in your wounds...the merge will complete itself."

Tali immediately recognized the artifact, a Leviathan control orb.  It seemed as if all Paladin tech ran off the damnable things.  Tali lifted her gun, but Xen raised her hand, as she rose to her knees.

"If I am to die," said Xen, "I will die a quarian, not another one of your damn puppets!"

Xen crawled to the terminal, and dropped the orb to the floor, fumbling with her gun on the floor.  She shot the orb, shattering it.  She whispered something that no one could hear, more blood sputtering from her mouth, and collapsed in a heap.

On the viewscreen, Atrayus narrowed his eyes, "so be it...General Garmok..."

Tali turned to the screen, as a batarian voice emitted from the screen.

"Yes, Atrayus," replied Garmok.

"I have no further use for this facility...destroy it..."

The batarian grinned with pleasure, "I'll enjoy doing so...all batteries...FIRE!!!"

 

The station shuttered, as artillery fire rocked the foundations of the base…

"Tali, do you read?" came Garrus' voice over the intercom.

Tali tapped her omnitool, "yes...status report!"

"Where the hell are you?!  The refugees just arrived at the shuttle, but we won’t leave without you!"

"We neutralized the lead researcher here," said Elana, "but we have bigger problems."

"Affirmative," answered Revenant, "craft unable to take off, due to bombardment by batarian fleets."

"Where the hell did they come from?!" spat Garrus, "Dover, can you reach us?"

"Negative Major," replied Cortez, "the batarians would turn us into swiss cheese, stealth field or no..."

"Damn it," cursed Garrus, "I'm coming around to you Tali, head to the nearest airlock, we'll make a break for the Dover..."

"That's suicide!" shouted Elana.

"I don't see what other choice we have," replied Garrus, "but I'm open to suggestions, Officer Pytar..."

"What about planetside?" offered Elana.

"We destroyed the relay beam to Haestrom," said Garrus, "but even if we could make it to the surface, I don't fancy our chances against an army of Prothean husks."

Elana looked up and down the terminals, shaking her head.  Then, a thought caught in her mind.  She turned to Tali, "can we detonate the demolition charges?"

Tali shook her head, "not with this damn Dampening Field active.  No telling where it’s coming from, and remote detonation is impossible."

"But it's possible from within the base..."

"The batarian bombardment will make mincemeat of the base in a few moments anyway," replied Garrus.

"He's right," replied Tali, "it doesn't matter anymore..."

She was shaking.  Elana gripped her shoulder, and Tali turned, squeezing her hand.  Tali had a frightened expression in her face, laughing, "I never thought I'd die like this..."

Elana narrowed her eyes, marching them both to the nearby airlock, "you won't die..."

Tali laughed, "I never figured turians for optimists."

Pytar smirked, "it must be Garrus' influence.  He's a dreadfully atypical turian...but he makes for an amazing command officer."

"I heard that," said Garrus, "swinging around to the airlock now...aw crap..."

"What?" demanded Tali.

"The doorway's blown," announced Garrus, "you'll have to secure your vacuum seals and jump out the airlock."

The quarian laughed, "well then, keep the ship steady."

Tali and Elana both secured their suits, getting to the airlock.  Tali gestured to her companion.

Elana shook her head, "ranking officers first."

Tali cocked her head to the side, sensing something amiss.

Elana sighed, "you know...he loves you Tali...more than even he realizes...I think.  He may not behave like a proper turian...but he's the best I've ever known..."

Tali gripped Elana's arm, "why are you telling me this?"

Pytar smiled sadly, "well, he'd kill me if anything happened to you...and I couldn't bear to see him lose you...it would break him."

Tali quivered, "this isn't goodbye, we'll make it through somehow..."

"I think we both know better..."

The quarian shook her head, breathing deeply before turning to the airlock, opening the door.  The vacuum was like a torrent, sucking her out into space.  She saw the outer door of the shuttle before her, landing with a thud in the airlock.

"What a rush," she said, turning, "wouldn't you say Elana?"

Only the turian wasn't there.  Still aboard the base, Elana Pytar drew her gun, blasting the terminal to the airlock door.

Tali could see the sparks from the other side, "what are you doing?!"

"Making sure you get out of here alive," answered Elana, tapping the virtual keys on her omnitool.

The base began to fire thrusters, heading closer towards the batarian fleets.

"Elana!" shouted Garrus, "by the Spirits, what do you think you are doing?!"

"Securing your escape sir," she replied, "I plan to blow this base to hell.  The confusion should buy you enough time to get to the Dover."

Garrus slammed his fist into the terminal of his shuttle, "dammit Pytar, don't do this, we'll find another way!"

"There is no other way," replied Elana, "the ship is out of reach, even for your arms..."

"This is no time for jokes," spat Vakarian, "I didn't give you permission to-"

"Last I checked," she replied, "we don't die on orders, remember?  I do what I choose to.  Right now, I choose to save all of you..."

Tali scanned the hull of the base, "I won't allow this, I'll find another airlock and-"

"No Tali," replied Elana, "not this time...take care of Garrus, will you?"

The female turian turned off her comms, silencing the protests of her friends.  Facing the terminals of the base, she gestured with her omnitool.  The thrusters of the base began to fire even harder.

"What the hell are you doing!?" demanded Garmok.

Elana sneered into the viewscreen, "denying you victory...you sick bastard..."

 

Tali screamed as she saw a bright light engulf the base.  The shuttle’s airlock door drew closed before her, shutting out the waves of the blast.

Garrus could hear static over the intercom, and Elana issued a final message, "don't grieve sir, it was an honor..."

Static reigned again, and Garrus barely noticed the Dover maneuver to pick them up in the distraction.

Cortez was saying something, though he was of little mind to hear it, "…have to maintain radio silence, or they might find us..."

Garrus turned, and he saw Tali buried in Kasumi's arms.  They rocked back and forth, as the quarian sobbed uncontrollably.  Kasumi nodded, patting Tali, whispering to her constantly.  The shuttle shuddered, signaling that the craft had secured itself within the cargo bay of the Dover.

Garrus closed his eyes, shoulders sagging, "get us out of here Cortez..."

"Right away sir...how many did we get out?"

The turian turned to Zaeed.  Messani was laid out on the floor of the shuttle, a grimace on his face as he gripped his wound.  Several asari and quarians huddled in a corner in the back of the shuttle, waiting for it all to finally end.  They, at least, would see another day.

Garrus sighed, "not enough..."

He felt the subtle shift as the Dover entered into the slipstream of FTL.

"Whatever we did," said Samara, clapping him on the shoulder, "these young ones owe you their lives."

Garrus shook his head, looking at the trembling youths in the corner.

Samara could see the thoughts circling in his head, "you did nothing wrong Garrus.  Elana was her own woman, don't deny her the last bit of pride she ever had..."

He turned to her and nodded.

"Whatever happened down there," said Cortez, over the comm, "you're a damn hero..."

Garrus didn't feel like one, but as he looked at those who were little more than children, he accepted that it would have to do, for now...

“Set course for Omega…”


	49. Revealing the Shade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 49

Several hovercars flew over the streets of Omega, the grimy metal highrises flitting by in flashes.  Shepard twirled a knife in his hands, then holstered the blade.  He examined a catch on his wrist armor, and drew out garrote wire, examining the folded patterns that reinforced the material.

"I never figured you for this kind of wetwork," said Aria T'Loak, over the vidcom of the craft.

Shepard shrugged, "we're sneaking in, while the rest of my team makes the noise and draws fire."

He knew they were close when he began to hear the explosions.

"Thank you again Shepard," said Aria, "for helping me clear out the trash."

The SPECTRE shrugged, "well, I AM laying claim to the ‘Shade,’ so I think it's fair."

Liara had been surprised when Aria had acquiesced so easily.  Crichton figured she had her reasons.  Oddly enough, Aria trusted them enough to keep her in the loop.  One never knew when the gratitude of the largest gangster in the Traverse would come in handy…

Shepard popped the hatch to the shuttle, and was greeted with carnage.  The bunker below was a series of smoldering craters and ruined walls.  Several battlements held Aria's own forces.  The ground below looked like a warzone.  Batallions of black armored salarians fought alongside humans in white armor.

Shepard sniffed, "bold of them to wear those colors, considering what happened last time Cerberus was on Omega."

He also noted a few batarians and vorcha, though less than one would have expected.  Shepard mentioned his curiosity over the intercom.

"Well, you DID split the Hegemony in two," replied Aria, "and I've been cleaning house myself."

"See you on the other side," Shepard nodded, turning to his squad.

He looked to compatriots.  The SPECTRE hadn't had much time to speak with Javik, but the Prothean didn't need many words to begin with.  They knew where they stood with each other, and all doubts had been laid to rest long ago.  To his other side stood Ashrai and Liara.  Jack and Shiala had both begged to come as well, the first to protect Shepard, the other to protect Liara.  But this was a stealth run, and their talents were needed...elsewhere.

Shepard had made Kirahhe commanding officer of the ground forces, leading the rest of the team in the frontal assault on the bunker.  It brought back bad memories.  Shepard could never forget Kaiden's death on Virmire.  The images played back in his mind, and Shepard could see the explosion once more...the blinding light that had claimed an entire settlement.

Liara caught his look, and knew immediately what it meant, "it's alright Shepard...Jack and Shiala will keep the rest of them safe..."

He smirked, blinking from his reverie, "and you?"

Liara grinned, "well, I'm keeping you safe...of course."

"As a friend once told me," Javik nodded, "'let old ghosts rest.'"

The SPECTRE laughed, nodding before turning to Ashrai, "you don't have to be here...your people are still rebuilding."

Ashrai arched an eyebrow, flicking back her dreads, "Commander, what will happen to us if the architect of this new peace suddenly dies at the hands of these fools?"

Shepard raised his hands in acceptance.

"We're at the drop zone," said the pilot, also batarian, "good luck!"

"You too Bray," said Shepard, as he jumped out the airlock.

The quartet landed softly on the tarmac, as the shuttle sped away.  They each engaged their cloaks, as Shepard drew up to the open hole in the bunker entry.

He laughed, "Grunt and Jack couldn't have used the door?"

"Not their style," whispered Liara.

Even now, they could hear the roar of the krogan tank-bred in the distance, a concordant salvo of biotic explosions rising in a crescendo as well.

"Let's get going," said Shepard, "and hope we reach Shade before the Paladins..."

Crichton fell into a battle haze.  Once, he might have berated himself, fearing the robotic effectiveness with which he fought.  But now, he was too damn tired, sick of always being a step behind his enemy.  As his team ghosted through the enemies, tearing through the forces with silent efficiency, he ceased thinking.  Ashrai and Javik stared in wonderment, as the SPECTRE moved fluidly from one kill to the next, barely availing himself of his silenced rifle.  Liara continued scrambling all comm signals with her omnitool, sporadically firing with her silenced pistol.  Shepard simply allowed the dance of carnage to happen.  There were more important tasks ahead, and there was no time for doubt.

 

From deep within the once secure bunker…

The Shade turned and checked the monitor's placed along the wall, making sure nobody followed the SPECTRE and his team.  Soon, Shepard and his three compatriots were at the door.  The Shade smirked, opening the door to their surprise.

"Come in," rasped the voice.

The doors opened wide, mist emanating from the walls, as if releasing some sort of pressure from a crypt long sealed.

Shepard carefully walked through the doorway, turning to Ashrai, "gaurd the exit."

Ashrai nodded, turning her back to them as she brought up her shields.  Shepard shielded his eyes against the glare of the lights within, the mist hiding the figure at the edge of the room.  He glanced to his right, and saw a bank of computer terminals.  He glanced at Liara, arching an eyebrow.  She nodded.  The setup was not so different from her databases on the Normandy.  With so much tech, it was no wonder that the Shade had been able to elude so many for so long.

"The STG isn't far behind," announced Shepard, "you'd better come with us, if you want to live."

The voice echoed, "for your survival as well, it seems.  Do you know what you are dealing with?"

"It's time we found out," Shepard replied, "I'm tired of being in the dark, and I'm through suffering the folly of my enemies."

The Shade grunted, as if in approval, and stepped out from the mists...revealing a Collector.  Javik started, as if slapped in the face.  He flashed teeth, a deep growl emanating from his throat, his body shaking as he drew his rifle.  The Shade brought her arms up, omnitools flashing, encasing the figure in shields.

Shepard raised his hand, gripping Javik's gun on instinct, jerking it away from the Prothean, “NO!”

Javik turned on Shepard, his biotics flaring.  Liara pulsed with blue energy, ready to protect her bondmate.

"ENOUGH!" shouted Shepard, holding Javik's arms in a vise, placing himself in Liara's line of fire as well.

The Prothean bared his teeth at Shepard, "that...THING is a puppet of the Reapers...it killed my people..."

Shepard glared back into Javik's eyes, all four of them, unflinchingly.

"The Collector's killed my people too," he said tersely, "I saw as they were processed into a Reaper abomination..."

Shepard calmly leaned in, "stand down, you may get your chance yet."

“Very well,” the Prothean grunted, shaking his head, "but I still don't understand your strange tolerance sometimes."

"Perhaps that is why our people died," offered the Shade.

Shepard and Javik both looked at the Collector, and Javik lowered his arms.  Shepard turned to the Shade, as Javik gruffed in disapproval, moving to stand next to Ashrai.

"You don't seem to be surprised," said the Collector.

This particular specimen was more lithe than the counterparts slain during the Reaper War.  Apparently, she was a female of the so-called 'species.'

"I've spent years doing the impossible," replied Shepard, "another Collector is hardly new.  I’m more surprised that you'd see me at all, considering what I did to your people."

“They were no longer my people,” replied the Collector, “besides, one good genocide deserves another.”

She didn't seem to begrudge the loss, and it was true…the destruction at the Galactic Core paled in comparison to the generations of other species that had been harvested.

"In fact, I owe you," stated the Shade, "after the fall of the Collector Base, we were discarded by our former masters."

Shepard shook his head, not understanding.  The Shade explained...

In that moment, the previous General, the most sentient Collector mind, had released control to a precious few, waking the next General in the process.  Then, miraculously, Shepard managed to save even more of them, when he garnered the help of the Leviathans.  Before vanishing beyond the Outer Rim, the Leviathans fought with the Reapers, breaking their hold on many husks, including some Collectors.  Of course, many of these creatures fell into animalistic tendencies.  However, a precious few Collectors had "awakened," joining the fight against their former masters.  Few would ever know about them, however, because they had mostly died...

Shade shook her head, ramming a fist into the table before her, "your true foe, the leader of these Paladins, is a Collector, named Atrayus."

Atrayus had expended the awakened lives on pointless experiments, trying to resurrect the dead Prothean race.  The research had culminated in her, the only other sentient Collector.  A clinical part of her mind saw the sense in it.  The rest of her considered only the violation from Atrayus' torturous experiments; and expiring in the pursuit of his legacy sat poorly with Shade…

Javik gnashed his teeth, clenching his hand tightly enough to break the skin, blood streaming from his fist.  He didn't know what to think.  Other than him, the Collectors were the last vestiges of his forgotten people.  As much as he hated them, what this Atrayus had done...no one deserved.

Shade shook her head, "I awoke from one hell into a new one."

Absent of her personal memories, Shade had fought her way out of the facility on Haestrom.  The Orthos squad’s attack had distracted her jailers, allowing her to flee.  In the confusion that followed, she had even helped the Orthos shuttle escape, by destroying Remnant artillery.

"Toombs..." whispered Liara.

The Collector shrugged.

"Do you remember anything of what came before?" asked Javik, "your pride as a  Prothean?"

The Shade shook her head, "all I have are vague memories of a dead culture, no persona to call my own.  My life has been consumed by rage, with precious little to focus it on."

She further glared at Javik, "I am indebted to a human I hadn't even met until today, and beholden to another who has died.  My PRIDE is in survival...as it has always been."

"Atrayus," Javik spat, like a curse, "what is he thinking?"

As surely as the Shade’s vengeance drove her, something drove Atrayus, some grand scheme that gave him purpose.  Until they knew what, anything else they did was pointless.

Shade shook her head again, "however, I do know that your Citadel is in danger once again."

Liara groaned, "of course...when isn't it?  One would think the seat of Galactic Law would be better protected."

Shepard breathed a resentful sigh as well, "what is it, and how can we stop it?"

"Your ‘Kasumi Goto’ and I have been sharing the data from the Orthos archives since she hacked into my servers, here on Omega.  With the help of her salarian friend, we have managed to pinpoint the Paladin in control of Salarian STG."

Shepard looked at the screen, as the Shade brought up the traitor’s profile.

His eyes widened, "of course, we should have known..."

Liara turned to the Collector, "can you get us a line to the Citadel?"

Shade shook her head, "communications are blocked."

“How long ago?”

“Just after your incursion.”

The asari cursed, rushing to the terminal, her hands a flurry as the interfaced with the databank.

“Then there should be just enough time…”

She found the connection she was looking for before long, and hacked through the security blocks.  A familiar face appeared on the monitor.

"Liara?  We thought it was a remote hack," exclaimed Jacob Taylor, "all the alarms are ringing because of your transmission, what the hell is going on?!"

"The Citadel is in danger!" she yelled, "the Paladins are on the move, you have to protect the Council!"

Jacob was quick on the uptake, nodding his head.  He was about to reply, when claxons began to blare behind him.

"Status report!" demanded Taylor.

"Fucking salarian STG," shouted James Vega, "we're under attack!"

Jacob turned back at the screen, a grim look on his face.  He glanced at the corner, off-screen, "can you enable to countermeasures?"

"I just brought them online," replied the voice of Orianna Lawson, "they'll have to work to get through."

Jacob nodded, "fine, organize all cadets and soldiers into teams, we need to repel boarders if we're going to make it out and to the Citadel."

He turned back to the monitor, "well, better late then never."

"We'll meet you at the Citadel," said Shepard.

"I'll try to leave some for you," smirked Taylor, "good luck."

The message was cut off.  The Shade moved to the terminals, shaking her head.

"Contact has been broken off throughout Citadel space, we won't be able to send out any other warnings," she announced, “fast work, Dr. Tsoni.”

"They must be using the Dampening Field," cursed Liara, "it must be originating at the source of the Relay system!"

"The Citadel," gasped Ashrai, "the Paladin's are already there..."

Shepard punched his fist into the wall.  The Paladins always seemed to be one step ahead.  Then a thought gleaned on him.

He turned to the Shade, "you ready to leave?"

The Collector nodded.

The SPECTRE turned to his team, "then let's move out."

He tapped the communicator on his omnitool as they ran through the hallways, "Shiala, are you there?"

"Here Shepard," came the reply through static.

"Pull all forces back," he ordered, "and meet me on the Normandy, I need you to send a message to the Rachni..."

He turned to Liara, “use whatever resources you have to get our allies together…”

“Gathering a fleet to save the Citadel?” asked Liara, “that will take time…”

“Then call a few of my markers with Aria.”

Shepard shook his head as they ran.  They were running short on options...time was a luxury they simply didn’t have...


	50. Battleplans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 50

Shepard sat in the lounge of the Normandy, gazing at the blue trails of ships entering the system out of FTL travel.  He knocked back a glass, the liquid burning its way down his throat.  The Dover had arrived an hour ago, but they were still waiting for a proper fleet to arrive…which left everyone with an agonizing amount of time.  The waiting had always been the worst…made no better by the knowedge that friends were dying.  Garrus had lost crewmates, Shepard could only imagine what was happening at the Citadel…and they weren’t close to finished yet…

He heard a rumbling, as the doors behind him cycled open.

“Remembering the fallen?” asked Shade.

Shepard nodded, “they do enjoy keeping me company.”

“You should not allow them such hold over you,” countered the Collector.

“Afraid I’ll become a ghost?” remarked the SPECTRE, “just…going through the motions, but empty inside?”

Crichton recalled giving some advice to Javik, once upon a time…“let old ghosts rest.”  He smiled darkly, and his company nodded, as if understanding.

“It’s survival,” the Collector stated, “I’ve spent the last cycle either enslaved or tortured at the hands of those that created these…husks.  I finally have my own mind back, but I’m no longer Prothean.  I feel…disconnected.”

“I’ve survived an entire lifetime like that,” Shepard nodded, “it’s no way to live.  You need to have an identity.  Certainly, I assume your Prothean name wasn’t ‘Shade.’”

She shook her head, “I cannot remember my life back then, only glimpses…”

“Well, then,” he continued, “we’d better come up with a better name for you.”

“I am the corrupted echo of a doomed race,” she replied, “I think the moniker appropriate.”

“About that,” the human said, “I’ve spoken with a salarian, Dr. Padok Wiks.  He figures, between your’s and Javik’s genetic templates, we may have a shot at reviving your people…if you desire.”

Shade remained silent for a moment, cocking her head to the side.

“The Collectors destroyed countless lives, and the Protheans were little better, in their cycle,” she replied, “who’s to say the fate wasn’t justified?”

Shepard shook his head, “these would be new beings, not slaves to the past.  Manufactured, yes; but capable of thought, growth, even reproduction.  It would be your task to educate them.”

Shade pondered the implications.  Genetically, she supposed it was possible.  But the Protheans, as a race, died long ago.  Little of their culture remained, wiped out over the eons.  The Great Empire of the past would scoff at these new beings, “Protheans” in name only.  Part of her liked the idea.  After millennia of war, there was little of the “Great Empire” worth salvaging.  Her people had been monsters well before the Reapers had turned them into slaves.

The Collector shrugged, “would the races of this era deem us worthy of such resurrection?”

“Isn’t for me to decide,” countered Shepard, “it’s bigger than any of us.  But IF we survive, and IF we can do it, and IF you become the mother of a new race of Protheans, I still think we can do better than ‘Shade.’”

The Collector considered this, then grunted, “hmm, and what do you and this ‘Padok Wiks’ wish to call me?”

“The doctor suggested 'Sephora.'”

“What does this name mean?”

“Well, when we rescued the Krogan race from the brink of extinction, we named the female progenitor ‘Eve.’”

“Earth-lore’s original mother,” she commented, “an apt name, considering the circumstance.  The Drell have someone similar.”

“You’ve studied other cultures?”

“I had ample time.”

Shepard nodded, “well, it wasn’t the first time Humanity survived an apocalypse.  The second time, the mother of humanity was the wife of Noah, her name was…”

“Sephora,” finished the Collector, wrapping her mind around the name.  She had no identity to call her own, not even sure of her memories.

The amusement in her voice was clear, “a kind gesture…I accept…”

He nodded, “then it’s time to finish the Paladins, and start living again…”

As Shepard stepped out of the lounge, he saw Ashley Williams leaning against the wall outside.  He arched an eyebrow, “Lt, keeping an eye on our guest?”

She shrugged, “I’ve learned to never second guess you, skipper.  I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Shepard understood the sentiment.  Ash knew what it was like to lose those under her command.  Somehow, they’d kept surviving, despite the loss of friends, family, nearly all of creation.

He nodded, “I’ll be better once we take these bastards down.  One more hill to take…Leiutenant.”

Williams laughed, “there’s always one more hill…”

Shepard smirked, as Joker announced they were nearing Omega.

He punched the button for the elevator, then turned to Ashley once more, “just as well we enjoy the climb then…”

 

On Omega…

Shepard waited as the airlock secured against the hull of the Normandy.  With a hiss, the seals latched shut, and Shepard walked through the open doors.  Off to one side, he saw the Dover.  His crew flanked him as he walked.

“Garrus is already waiting at Club Afterlife,” said Liara.

“Sounds like they went through hell too,” added Jack.

T’Soni nodded, “indeed, and Aria has been clearing Paladins from Omega since we rescued Shade…er, what are we calling you again?”

“Sephora,” laughed the Collector, “I have deigned to accept the moniker my saviors have given.”

Shepard strode on in silence, making his way through the streets of Omega.  For once, nobody bothered him.  It could have been the figures at his side, or perhaps even his reputation.  However, Jack caught sight of the look on Shepard’s face.  A glint was in his eyes, a stern expression brooking no defiance.  Jack grunted, it was a pretty good glare.  She’d known krogans and vorcha who couldn’t glare that hard, and that was all they did.

Club Afterlife had grown after the renovations, but it still had the same feel from years past.  Neon lights danced to synthesized music, with just the right amount of shadows to ensure privacy.  Shepard found he’d grown accustomed to it.  Ironically, the haven for the Pirate Queen of the Terminus was safe ground.  He walked into a side room, a large VIP lounge, the entrance of which was guarded by a surly looking batarian.

Bray cracked a smile upon seeing the SPECTRE, “damn human, doesn’t ANYTHING kill you?”

Shepard chuckled, “despite my best efforts.”

Liara rolled her eyes, “don’t encourage him…”

As they entered, Shepard saw Tali and Garrus at the bar, sharing drinks with Aria herself.

“You go ahead,” announced Jack, catching sight of Miranda, “me and the cheerleader have some drinking to do.”

Miranda nodded to him, and Shepard gripped her hand, “heard you’ve been through it…sorry I wasn’t there.”

Lawson breathed in sharply, nodding curtly, “you had your hands full, I’m just glad you got out safely.”

Shepard smirked, “well, I couldn’t mess up your handiwork, after all the trouble you went through.”

For once, Miranda had no response, as Jack ushered her towards the bar.

As Shepard watched her go, he glanced sideways at Liara, “she seem…off, to you?”

Liara shrugged, “she and I have been spending the last few hours gathering information and drawing up this plan.”

He whistled in reply.  What with FTL communications down, it couldn’t have been an easy task, even for two of the most powerful and well-informed women in the galaxy.

T’Soni sniffed, “by all accounts, Aria and Tali had it worse, gathering all those fleets…”

Garrus was walking towards the center of the room, along with Aria T’Loak.

Shepard allowed himself to smile, gripping arms with Garrus, “good to see you.”

Vakerian grunted, “you don’t know the half of it.”

The turian glanced Shepard up and down, and clapped him on the shoulder, “looks like you’ve been through it.”

“Coming from you, that means almost nothing.”

The two started laughing, as Liara rolled her eyes.

“Are they always like this?” asked Aria.

“Goddess,” sighed Liara, “don’t ask.”

Shepard noticed a few missing figures, “I don’t see Kirrahe…or Grunt.”

“Took a transport out, he’s working on getting support from Tuchanka,” replied Garrus.

“And Kirrahe?”

Aria smirked, “using some of my contacts to garner…salarian assets.”

Shepard narrowed his eyes, and glanced back at Liara, who had a similarly devilish grin on her face.

He shook his head, “I won’t ask…so…what are we looking at?”

Liara gestured to the holo-projector in the middle of the room, bringing up an image of the Citadel.  Around the room, the others stopped speaking, turning their attention to the screen.

“With Sephora’s help, I’ve deduced several key points within the Paladins’ plans…”

Shepard watched as she brought up schematics of the Citadel.  He remembered the chamber of the Catalyst, shuddering as he filed the insistent memories away.  Somehow, the Paladins had accessed the Citadel mainframe, pulling data from the Catalyst core.  The AI had been burned out of the system.  Even so, the information was a repository of potentially unlimited data.  Only someone with close access could have hijacked the data, however…

“Atrayus, a surviving Collector General,” continued Liara, “managed to break the encryption, just like Sephora.”

“As well as your Kasumi Goto,” added the Collector, “albeit with a cipher.”

“And technical support from myself, Miranda, and Dr. Wiks,” continued Liara.

Liara brought up more schematics.  Shepard immediately recognized a Dark Energy weapon that he’d seen used on Feros…the one that had taken Terric’s life.  The mission seemed like years ago, but still, the battle continued.

Liara showed him the blackout fields that he’d seen deployed, which had also been utilized on Lesuss…Energy Dampeners powerful enough to destroy the abilities of biotics…and cripple the entire damn relay system…there was so much they just hadn’t been able to prepare for.

Finally, Liara called up the schematics for the Crucible.  But the device was now decommissioned, an inert part of the Citadel.

“What’s this got to do with the Paladins?” asked Shepard.

“The Dark Energy devices,” stated Miranda, “a small version of this weapon takes out biotics and communication.  However…”

She walked up to the display, showing images of the derelict Reaper in the Thorne System.  This was from during their run on the Collector Base, where they’d picked up the Reaper IFF.

“Scaled up,” continued Liara, “it destroys a Reaper, or all of them…like the Crucible did.”

“Somewhere in between,” added Miranda, “we get this blackout, and the destruction of Bahak.”

The room was silent.  All of these devices, powered on dark energy, broke the laws of the galaxy, consuming eezo in reactions that shouldn’t have been possible.

“So, what are the Paladin’s doing with it?” asked Javik.

Miranda nodded, bringing up schematics of the Prothean husks, resurrected by experiments on the Thorian, as well as abducted Ardat Yakshi.

“The weaponization of quarians into biotics was a side effect,” continued Lawson, “and, in most cases, lethal.”

Shepard glanced across at Tali, who was hugging herself tightly, Garrus’ arms encircling her.

“Project Tython,” explained Liara, “stage 1.”

“And stage 2?” asked Zaeed.

Liara shook her head, “Paladin’s seem to be harvesting, much like the Collector’s did a few years ago.”

Shepard snapped his head up, “no…they couldn’t be creating another Reaper.”

They all turned to Sephora.

The Collector stared silently at the schematics, then made several gestures, bringing up images of the human proto-Reaper, “the purpose of this being was to create a new kind of Reaper.”

“What,” scoffed Aria, “a super Reaper?”

Sephora shook her head, “no, simply one immune to the effects of Dark Energy…perhaps even feeding on it…”

“By all accounts,” explained Liara, “the only force that has ever been able to effectively defeat them.”

“Why would he do this?” asked Shepard.

“All previous attempts to awaken the other Prothean husks have failed,” reasoned Sephora, “Atrayus must believe ‘Typhon’ is his last chance.”

Garrus shook his head, exasperated, “explain to me why all this even matters.  We’ve taken down Reapers before.”

“Well,” continued Miranda, “burning so much eezo is unnatural.  The last time it happened…Shepard was on the Crucible ending the Reaper War…”

The Collector nodded, “no one can know for sure, but if a theorized ‘Red Shift’ event occurs, another likely side effect is supercharging the galactic core.”

“Come again?” asked Shepard, he’d heard this before, “what does that even mean?”

“Something the asari were warned of in the Prothean archives,” offered Liara, “regardless of application, the destruction of so much eezo could cause the entire galaxy to red shift.”

The entire room fell silent again.  A ship entered “blue shift” when it traveled faster than the speed of light.  However, a “red shift” phenomena was the opposite, akin to an atomic bomb in reverse, and just as devastating.

Aria found her voice first, “so the galaxy wouldn’t explode, but implode…”

“Right,” Garrus laughed darkly, “because that’s so much better…”

“Indeed,” answered Miranda, “red shifting on such a large scale would turn the immediate systems into a giant black hole…”

“Furthermore,” said Liara, “such destabilization of the Galactic Core would increase the spread of the Red Shift.  The resulting black hole could consume the entire Galaxy.”

“Killing all life with it,” finished Sephora, “leaving only this Reaper to rebuild, assuming it could even survive such an event…”

Shepard clenched his fists, “so, say they complete this project, don’t the Paladins realize what this could do?”

“I don’t think they care,” offered Sephora, “Atrayus has likely Indoctrinated them via physical implantation, or else promised enough compensation to sway them.”

“Compensation won’t matter,” spat Garrus, “if the whole galaxy is a smoldering crater…”

Shepard’s thoughts were blank.  This didn’t seem real.  It was too much to process.  What were the Paladin’s playing at?  The Reapers had visited death and carnage on the galaxy…but this…this gambit wouldn’t leave any pieces behind.  There wouldn’t be a galaxy left to bury, much less rebuild.  When Shepard came to his sense, he realized everyone was looking right at him.  God help him, they were turning to him for leadership…again.

He put on his best game face, “this changes nothing, just means our jobs became more important…”

“I assume we have a plan?” asked Garrus.

Miranda nodded, “it all hinges on appropriating the Dark Energy weapon the Paladins likely have on the Citadel.”

“It must be something they hooked up to the Catalyst mainframe, else they would have been caught beforehand,” continued Liara, “no other way they could have hijacked the Citadel systems.”

Garrus sniffed, “and you know this because?”

“I’m familiar with their security protocols,” replied T’Soni furtively.

“Of course you are…”

“Back to the point,” offered Shepard, “what do we do, once we get it?”

“Miranda told me about the Conduit on Haestrom,” said Liara, “back-tracking the information, we found vector coordinates leading to the Citadel, as well as to Ilos.”

Ilos…of course.  The Reaper War had all but started on Ilos…

“Ilos?” asked Garrus, “they reopened a backdoor onto the Citadel?”

“Seems so,” said Miranda, “which we can use to carry the weapon back to Ilos.”

“Lucky us,” sighed Garrus, “and then what?”

“Then,” replied Shepard, “we shove the weapon into this ‘Typhon,’ detonate the damn thing, and get the hell out.  Am I right?”

Liara’s lips twitched in a wry smirk, “more or less…”

“I am getting tired of this shit,” Crichton shook his head, “we are going to kick their asses, then save the galaxy…”

“Again,” added Garrus.

“Again,” nodded Shepard, “then, if they have any parts left after we’re done with them, I am going to burn them, piss on the ashes, and then spend the next week drowning myself in alcohol.”

Liara blinked several times at Shepard’s vehemence, something she rarely saw out of combat.

Jack laughed, “mmm, I love it when you talk dirty…”

Shepard glanced at her fiercely, and back to Liara, “well, alcohol and a few other pursuits…one has to have variety.”

Liara blushed, looking away, and noticed a repressed grin on Miranda’s face.  She shook her head, ‘Goddess, grant me perseverance…’

“So,” prompted Tali, “no more speeches?”

“That’s it…kick their ass, meet me back here for drinks,” Shepard grinned darkly, “and make sure you come back alive, or I’ll take it out of your hides…”

Jack laughed again, pursing her lips, “that could be fun too…”

Slowly, the crew dispersed, off to make their peace before the final storm…


	51. Calm Before the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: One of my reviewers noted that Liara wasn’t getting enough love, so I edited the chapter a bit to include a romance scene. Incidentally, this chapter is rife with them. There’s little plot exposition here, being the “calm before the storm” moment that Bioware is known for including before the final battle. If such things make you squeamish, just skip over this chapter, as you will have missed nothing but character development. Enjoy!

Chapter 51

Club Afterlife was surprisingly quiet. Aria must have cleared out the bar for their meeting. The only ones he could see were crew from Normandy and Dover. A normal person might question battle-hardened veterans “boozing it up” before a battle. Yet this is how it had always been. The fleets were still jumping in-system, Liara and Shiala were still organizing their forces. It would be hours yet before the teams were ready to move out. So it was time to prepare for battle. A bar was as good a place as any, for some.

The SPECTRE walked up to Zaeed Messani, who was sharing stories with Vash, their resident Vorcha. The alien was snarling at the barkeep for more of whatever green liquid was currently gracing his mug. Zaeed asked for the same.

“Watch it Messani,” warned Shepard, “the stuff kicks like a mule. I daresay it’s toxic to humans.”

The mercenary smirked, “only in large amounts. Besides, I’m alternating between this and whiskey. The better to share old stories with.”

Shepard shook his head, “so, you and Vash have a history eh?”

Vash nodded, issuing that coughing laugh of his, “Messan-ee save me many times.”

“The boot’s been on the other foot too,” followed Zaeed, “the Vorcha’s gotten my bacon out of the fryer more than once.”

“Why am I not surprised?” said Shepard, “I’ll leave you to it.”

“No, Shepard,” replied Vash, “drink with us.”

The SPECTRE raised his hands, “the last time I had ryncol, I wound up all but passed out in Aria’s lap.”

Zaeed arched an eyebrow, “really?”

He shook his head in reply, “yeah, I don’t want to give Jack and Liara an excuse to kill me just yet. See you on the ship…”

The two nodded to him, while they continued their boisterous discussion. He moved on to a nearby table, further away from the bar. Shepard nodded to Garrus, and took a seat. Garrus turned over a shot glass, pouring a rich amber liquid into it, before sliding it over. Shepard raised the glass inquisitively.

“Scotch,” answered Garrus, “safe for dextros and non alike.”

The human nodded, reading the expression in the turian’s face, “to absent friends.”

Vakerian sniffed, before knocking back his drink.

“You want to talk about it?”

Garrus sighed, “spirits Shepard, when is it enough?”

He thought for a moment. Shepard hadn’t gotten a chance to know Elana Pytar, but he knew what she’d meant to Garrus. Thinking back, they’d both lost loved ones and squadmates alike.

“I could say something about honoring their sacrifices,” he replied, “but think of it this way…”

Out the corner of his eye, he caught sight of someone walking towards them. Garrus paid no heed, focusing on Shepard.

Shepard considered his words, “how does Tali make you feel, Garrus?”

The turian shook his head, “I don’t see-”

“Just answer the question.”

Garrus blinked, taking his time. The figure walking up to them stopped.

“I love her Shepard, need her in a way I’d never thought possible…”

“But?”

“But I cared about Elana…as a fellow soldier. Anything else that might have been is long since in the past.”

“So what’s the problem?”

Garrus shook his head, “I’ve never been in love before Shepard. Most turians don’t go about romance in a way you would understand.”

The figure in the distance shuddered slightly, Shepard gestured for Garrus to continue.

“Not saying my parents didn’t care for me, it’s just that…humans, and quarians, you…‘empathize,’ I think is the best term. Before we met the asari, it wasn’t an emotion we gave voice to.”

Shepard grinned, “ah yes. Tali said that Elana told her once, she thought it made you a better leader…”

“But a piss poor turian,” laughed Garrus.

“You afraid of what this is doing to you?”

“Spirits Shepard,” groaned the turian, “it isn’t that. I couldn’t imagine a life without Tali, any more breathing in a vacuum…it’s just…”

Shepard finally understood, it was a sentiment he’d felt more than once, “are you allowed to feel this way, with all the destruction you’ve seen? Are you what’s best for her, is that it?”

Garrus nodded, knocking back another shot.

“You tell her this?”

“How the hell can I?”

Shepard glanced to the figure behind them, then back to Garrus, and grinned slightly, “well then, just ask, how does it feel when you hold her?”

Garrus thought a bit more, before answering, “like nothing in the world can stop us, like I will do anything for her…and damn the galaxy if that’s what it takes to make her happy.”

The turian sighed, “I want to grow old with her, Shepard…”

“Well then,” finished Shepard, “I think that’s all that matters, wouldn’t you agree Admiral Zorah?”

Out of the shadows came the figure behind them. Of course, it was Tali. He eyes were glazed over, holding back tears. She managed to affect an arrogant grin, brushing back her hair.

“Well, I can’t blame a turian for being ignorant in the ways of a woman’s heart.”

Shepard took a final drink, before rising to his feet. Garrus stared at him, dumbfounded and stammering.

“You’re welcome Garrus,” said Shepard, “take care of the esteemed Major, Tali.”

The quarian smiled at him, kissing him on the cheek before sitting down. The human turned without another word.

“Tali, I-”

“Oh shut up Garrus,” replied Tali, “and kiss me already…”

 

Outside Club Afterlife…

The trip back to the ship was a blur, a torrent of caresses and searing kisses. Tali could only wonder at Garrus' emotions, especially after that confession.

“He meant them,” Tali thought. Even if he hadn’d intended for her to hear it, the words had passed his lips.

Those passionate lips now demanded her attention, striking further thought from her mind. The noises and atmosphere of Omega combined together, a neon metallic haze, highlighted by the occasional chuckle of a passing batarian or asari dancer. She was sure that they must have looked like quite the pair, attached at the mouth, hips, and arms.

Tali didn’t care how she and Garrus looked to the world. In the calm before the oncoming storm, they had more...pressing matters. All that mattered was that Garrus loved her. This was a mere moment, a sweet prelude to the night of passion to come.

“Empathy” is what Garrus had called the turian view of romance. Part of her had to agree. As they had grown closer, Tali had come to love the SPECTRE, not just for his bravery and fierce loyalty, but for his “oddities” as well. 

Tali was no stranger to the cultural differences between species, whether human, quarian, or turian. Romance seemed to be the foremost curiosity between all species. Xenophobia was fast becoming a thing of the past, necessitating acceptance of all sorts of relationships. However, the cultural norms that dictated tradition were harder to kill than she had ever thought.

It pained her that some considered Garrus a “pitiful excuse of a turian.” He was anything but that to her. Garrus' “quirks” were more than some amusement to reflect upon in the middle of night; something to ponder as she considered their relationship. Rather, she considered them a boon, and a blessing.

Tali recalled how Shepard had once shown her an image of a flower on Earth before the Reaper Invasion. Crichton had identified the plant as a lily, and it was unlike any flower that Tali had ever seen before. The species came in a variety of colors, though the yellow variety had resonated with her. The beautiful contrast of the color against stark white had left her speechless.

Yet despite the beauty, what had astounded her the most was Shepard’s comment of the flower's atrocious odor. Tali had wondered, how could something so naturally beautiful be so foul smelling?

Garrus' urgent hands demanded her attention once again. She didn’t know why such a random thought had come into her mind now, of all times.

“Blame it on the scotch,” Tali thought, as she resumed her onslaught on Garrus’s mandibles. The act elicited a shudder from the turian, and she smiled at the result.

Tali had always secretly loved how the powerful soldier’s muscles rippled at her slightest touch. It stirred a something primal in her, and she reveled in the slight feeling of dominance it afforded her. The rest of the trip back to the captain’s quarters seemed little more than a rush of lights, beeps from the intercoms and control panels barely heeded.

Piece by piece, they stripped each other of armor, tearing away clothing to be dropped nonchalantly onto the ground. Tali let out a surprise chuckle as Garrus picked up her body and tossed her onto the bed. She was only absent his presence for a mere second, before the turian nestled sweetly atop her. His muscles rippled with barely contained passion, seeming fit to burn her quivering flesh. Her senses were overcome with the euphoria.

The rest of the night was an undending tide, a sweet sensation of release that dominated all thought and sense. The two war veterans exchanged no words, as their bodies conducted a silent orchestra, accentuated by haltering breaths…until they were utterly spent…

When the night was a sweet memory, Tali lay next to her SPECTRE. His eyes were closed, a sheen of sweat glistening against his muscles. As she watched the slow and deep breathing of the turian, Tali realized the answer to her own question earlier that night.

Garrus had said that when he held her, everything seemed right, that he could take on the whole galaxy for her. While the notion seemed rather childish, it made her smile regardless. Locks of her long black hair fell over her face as she shifted in the thin, soft sheets. The single pillow that held her head tickled her pale cheek.

If Tali was the lily, then Garrus was undeniably her light, tradition be damned. Whatever would come after this battle, death or life, Tali knew that Garrus was the one. It had taken her till now, amidst the stillness following their ferocious lovemaking, to see it. She chuckled quietly to herself, feeling her heart flutter at such naive notions. She'd always considered herself a bit of a tomboy. “Girly” though her thoughts might be, Tali couldn’t help but smile at the feeling of content that took hold of her…

 

Inside Club Afterlife…

Samara, Ashrai, and Revenant were sitting at their own table in silence. Shepard cocked his head to the side, walking over and taking a seat. He swiveled in his chair, still able to see Kasumi, Kolyat, and Falere, in a table across the room.

Shepard turned to Samara, “it’s been too long.”

The Justicar smiled in return, “good to see you.”

Ashrai tipped her head to Shepard, who ducked his head to the side in equal measure.

The SPECTRE gestured to the other table, “how are things?”

Samara shook her head, “hopeful…which is unexpected.”

“Be thankful for small mercies,” offered Ashrai, gesturing to Falere, “we just need to forge a better future for others like her.”

Shepard nodded at the batarian, “so, what are you doing?”

“My father is gathering our forces for the final push,” said Ashrai, “those not left behind to defend Karshaan are currently on their way.”

Samara gestured to the geth at her side, “Revenant and I will be coordinating several battle groups. Kasumi was working with Miranda on some sort of interim communication system…I believe she called it ‘radio.’”

Shepard nodded.

“Meanwhile,” Ashrai continued, “Revenant is gathering his brethren through this fledgling communication system. We are watching over him while he remains in stasis.”

Shepard noticed how the geth’s “lightbulb” was off, as if asleep.

“I’ve given my daughter a few moments,” continued Samara, “then she and Shiala will be communicating our strageties through the Rachni queens.”

Shepard nodded. It was a boon none had expected, not even their enemies. When the relay and communication systems went down, it should have crippled any plans for a concerted counter-offensive. However, the Rachni didn’t need the mass relays to communicate, and could relay battle-plans almost as effectively. It was still a cumbersome system, but between them and Orthos’ “radio” systems, they had a chance.

“Few can claim to be so far-sighted,” said Ashrai, “you should be proud.”

Shepard shook his head, “I didn’t save the Rachni for this. I just did what I felt was right.”

Samara smiled, “it is who you are.”

Ashrai laughed, “who else could forge a peace between disparate nations?”

“More than once,” added Samara, “how many times is it now Shepard? We’ll soon have to name you ‘The Arbiter.’”

“Alright, enough already,” he chuckled, “try to get some rest before the battle, you deserve it.”

“Terric would be proud,” said Ashrai, “my people have a future, thanks in no small part to you and yours.”

Samara nodded, “as does my daughter, I have everything I need…but thank you for the concern Shepard.”

 

Crichton stood once again, nodding to EDI and Joker in the corner of the room. She’d talked the pilot into slow dancing, of all things. Shepard issued a loud wolf-whistle, causing Joker to shake and duck his head in embarrassment. The SPECTRE chuckled, as he drew a chair next to Jack, who was currently busy drinking with Miranda.

He nodded to the leader of Orthos, “you seen Grunt or Kirrahe?”

Miranda nodded, “off organizing with my team, planning a surprise of sorts.”

“Ah, best not to ask then,” replied Shepard, “nice trick on that ‘radio’ system.”

“Just taking a page from your exploits on Feros. It isn’t really radio, just tight spectrum waves, bounced cross-system,” Miranda deflected, “the name is a holdover from old Earth lore. It wouldn’t be enough without the Rachni bolstering the system.”

Jack rolled her eyes, “damn it, stop jawing you two. We should be getting drunk right now.”

Shepard grinned, “I’ll be happy to drink you under the table once the fighting is over.”

She glared at him pointedly, “after the fighting is over, I’m going to tie you down to the bed, there won’t be time for alcohol.”

He laughed, “promises promises. Isn’t like you to swear off booze. What have you done with my Jack? For that matter, why aren’t you two at each others’ throats?”

Miranda and Jack stared at each other, shaking their heads.

Lawson shrugged, “can’t explain it Captain, we just clicked, all of a sudden.”

He shook his head, “you two really are going to run off together. I hear makeup sex is the best.”

“He says, as if he doesn’t know,” said Jack, much to Miranda’s growing chagrin.

“Now who would ever risk pissing you off Jack?” asked Shepard, “it isn’t worth the makeup if I never survive the foreplay.”

She arched an eyebrow at him, “well, there is that. What do you say Miranda, should we educate him?”

Miranda buried her face in her hands, “by God, why do I even speak to you?”

Jack smirked, “because you can’t resist my feminine charms.”

Lawson stared up at her, arching an eyebrow.

The tattooed woman rolled her eyes, “yes yes, you have an ass that can go for miles. Don’t think I haven’t looked; I’m only human. But you can’t work it half as well as me.”

“Stop teasing the poor woman,” chuckled Shepard, as Miranda buried her face in her hands again, “you owe her, after all.”

“What the hell for? You aren’t going to say she saved my life, because the Collector Base was one giant clusterfuck we were all lucky to get out of.”

“True,” acknowledged Shepard, “but she DID bring me back from the dead.”

Jack went silent at those words, blinking several times. Miranda rose in her seat as well, breathing in sharply.

“Mmm,” offered Jack, trying to lighten the mood, “I suppose I can forgive her for seeing my man naked for so long. Good work on his body girl, no complaints from me.”

Shepard sniffed, rolling his eyes as he reached for Jack’s glass. He poured himself a few sips and drank, grimacing at the burn.

He shook his head at her, “damn, this lighter fluid will kill you before the Paladins get a chance.”

He turned back to Miranda, pointedly ignoring Jack’s smug grin.

“Well, just wanted to make the rounds, and thank you.”

Shepard drew close to Jack, kissing her lightly before drawing back, “I think I’ll see what Liara’s up to, maybe lie down for a bit. See you in a few hours?”

Jack had never thought herself one for public displays of affection, but she couldn’t help caressing his chin, enjoying the feeling of his stubble across her palm.

“I’ll be there.”

Shepard nodded, before heading out the club.

Jack sighed, before turning back to her drink, “damn it, I can’t get this stupid grin off my face.”

Miranda laughed, “it looks good on you.”

Jack looked sideways at her drinking mate. A dozen ribald jokes came to mind, but she settled for “thanks.”

Then she poured them both another set of drinks, and they tried to ignore, for a few hours at least, the looming prospect of death that awaited them…

 

Liara sat in front of her monitors aboard the Normandy. She’d not yet discarded the formal dress she’d worn at meeting. The asari closed her eyes, a slight groan of delight escaping her lips, as Shepard’s hands messaged her neck and shoulders, working through the terrible knots. The tension eased out of her muscles with each sweet caress.

“Mmm,” moaned Liara, “I’m going to have to steal you all for myself after this is over.”

“You always work too hard,” Shepard laughed, “it’s your nature. You seem to love tormenting yourself.”

“Look who’s talking,” she retorted.

Her eyes rolled back in ecstacy once more, as she reveled in his ministrations.

“Never said it was smart,” he answered, “I’m still carrying the weight of events since before I left the colony as a kid.”

“I suppose,” she pondered, “I never really had a childhood either.”

“You had to grow up so fast,” continued Shepard, “never got a chance to enjoy life. I suppose we could both use a vacation.”

Liara shook her head, “I’m sorry, here you are trying to cheer me up, and I’m-”

He turned her around in her chair, and put a finger on her lips, “shh, hey now, we have plenty to worry about, so none of that.”

Shepard smiled, his palm cupping her left cheek. Liara’s face was flushed red now, her heart beating so fast she could swear Shepard should hear it. The asari’s mouth parted slightly. Shepard looked into her eyes, closing the distance between them, but not daring to bridge the gap between their lips.

Liara dared, bringing her hungry mouth up to meet his, her arms caressing the rippling muscles along his back. Liara smiled into his mouth, remembering the first time they had kissed.

Shepard seemed to be thinking the same thing, as he whispered, “I guess all we needed was another war to fight.”

She brought her right hand to his chest, tracing a path up to his neck, “no we don’t.”

And she brought their lips together once more.

She put her left arm about his right, bringing his hands to rest against the small of her back. Shepard reached beyond it, caressing the pliant silky smooth flesh against the chilled black cloth. Liara moaned into his mouth, her body molding against his, as her hands began to knead the flesh of his buttocks, causing a reaction in him that she could feel pressing against the front of her waist. He shuddered against her, causing a matching sensation to ripple down her skin, the coolness evaporating. The heat spread across their grinding bodies.

As Liara pulled Shepard against her, he began to nuzzle the nape of her neck, exploring her with his lips. A sigh escaped softly from her mouth. He placed his hands about her hips, as he lifted her onto a short counter against the wall. Liara breathed huskily, bringing his mouth up to meet hers again, their tongues fighting for supremacy. Crichton forcefully pushed backwards, and Liara’s head bumped slightly against the wall.

Shepard drew back, his face flush, laughing, “sorry.”

She smiled as well, grabbing him about the collar and bringing their faces closer again, “if you stop now, I’ll have to kill you.”

“What,” teased Shepard, “and flay me with your mind?”

He had to laugh at the look that Liara gave him, equal parts lust and frustration. She raised her hands, running them through his hair. Then she smirked, and forcefully guided him to the valley between her breasts. Liara groaned roughly, as he began to dip his fingers through the lingerie beneath her dress. And like that, all further thought was banished from their minds; nothing else mattered.

Liara gasped, silently demanding him to continue. Shepard grinned wolfishly, happy to comply…


	52. Rescuing the Council...Again...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 52

Officer Chellick of C-Sec watched in silence, as the bridge of the ship around him burned.  One of the yeoman was fighting the fires with an extinguisher, but he paid no heed.

“Situation report,” said the turian, “I want all ships to report, who’s acting commander?”

Another turian looked at the viewscreen, shaking his head, “all remaining ships reporting in…it looks like command has shifted to you…Admiral.”

A chill went down Chellick’s spine.  Not five years ago, he’d been a simple detective.  Now, in one decisive battle, he had become the admiral of the Citadel’s security fleet!

An alarm claxon went off close by, “sir, we have another ship entering Citadel space!”

“On view screen!” spat Chellick.

The shuttle sped through the space surrounding the Citadel. Jacob Taylor looked out the viewport of the ship, noting the disarray outside. Whatever signal was coming from the Citadel had cut all communications, and wreaked havoc on the fleets' systems.  The ships were drifting, lone islands desperately affecting repairs.

“Shuttle!” screamed the turian voice on the shortwave radio, “identify!”

Jacob shook his head, "Orthos strike team, led by Officers Taylor and Vega.  What happened?”

“Damn salarians,” cursed Chellick, “first, some signal blasted all Relay communications to shit, forcing us onto localized backup.  Before we could regroup, the traitors blindsided us.”

“Where’s our counter-offensive?”

“You’re talking to him,” replied the Turian, “any further reinforcements?”

“We’re it for now,” answered Jacob, “Shepard is aware, and gathering who he can from Omega.”

“Spirits!” shouted Chellick, “we’ll never last!”

As the officers spoke on the intercom, two youths, David Archer and the young woman known simply as Talitha, huddled in a corner.

Talitha shook her head, “how could they take down C-Sec so easily?”

Seated in the cockpit, James Vega shrugged, "it's easy to miss them coming at you sideways.  Considering all the firepower out here, who’d be looking for it?"

Jacob shook his head, amazed that they had somehow managed to break the blockade at Grissom Academy.  Between the cadets, students, and soldiers stationed there, Oriana Lawson would have the base cleared and running in no time.  However, the Citadel was still in trouble, and Jacob had needed able-bodied fighters.

So despite his better judgment, he’d allowed these two, little more than children, to join them. They were the most talented students in Grissom Academy.  It galled him that he had to ask them to follow him into the grinder.  He just had to hope that they'd be tough enough to survive.

The base grew closer, and now he could see one of the wards.  Here was the Presidium of the Citadel, which housed the embassies and the Council.  James brought the shuttle up, climbing to the top of the spire, the seat of the Galactic Council.

“We’ll cover your approach,” said Chellick over the intercom, “secure the Council, we’ve had no word since this attack started!”

“Affirmative,” Jacob shook his head, "here goes nothing."

James smirked, "no here goes everything..."

 

Vega pointedly ignored the bright lights, indication of the blasts that were exploding far too closely.  Both the traitors’ attacks and the defenders’ salvos shook the tiny vessel.  James had been in his share of drops, and he had learned that nothing would come of worrying.  If they were hit by a blast, he wouldn’t be alive long enough to care anyway…

Soon enough, the scene outside cleared, giving way to the artificial atmosphere of the Citadel.  Jacob cursed, as Vega maneuvered through wreckage and fire from below.

“Damn Remnant,” spat Taylor, “when the hell did they get on the Citadel?”

Vega shook his head, “well, it just proves Shepard was right…again.”

“Right…the Paladins,” Jacob nodded, “heads up!”

Vega looked out the view port, as they saw several figures being chased by a battalion of shuffling assailants.

"Looks like we have remnant chasing the Council," cursed Taylor.

"Prepare for a rough landing," replied James, as he brought the shuttle hurdling down to the Citadel tower.

Jacob grunted as he strapped in, "is there any other kind with you?"

James said nothing as the shuttle crashed through the barriers, debris flying everywhere.  Lights and claxons blared within the ship, Jacob's vision went black.  It took a moment for him to regain his senses.  Slowly, a voice broke him from his reverie, and he saw James' hand.   He reached out to grab it, as the larger soldier hauled Jacob out of the shuttle.

His vision cleared, and Taylor could see several bodies of husks strewn about, motionless.  The two young cadets had already secured the perimeter, shields up in case of attack.

Jacob gestured to the two cadets with this chin, and James nodded.

"They had the area secure almost before I got around to ordering them," he replied, "they may make it out of this."

"I just hope WE do," Jacob shook his head, "my last mission here, the Council almost died."

David Archer turned back, "let’s make sure that doesn't happen this time either."

Talitha nodded, a forced expression of calm bravery on her face.  Vega grinned, noting her shaking hands.

"We'll be fine, Shepard would get angry if anything happened, right?"

She smiled, her trembling subsided.

Jacob took point, summoning his strength.  As he tried to raise his barriers, he was hit with a crippling pain; and he doubled over in agony.  Blood trickled from his nose, his body shaking from a feeling of... wrongness.

James grasped his shoulder, "what is it?"

"My biotics," gasped Jacob.

"Yeah, Shepherd said whatever this damn field is, it knocks out most biotics as well."

Jacob shook his head, "I'll make do without it."

He wiped the blood from his face, grasping his gun tightly, gesturing for them to move out.  Before long, the squad came across several figures, two salarians, a turian, and an asari.

Vega wasn’t familiar with the faces, barring the asari, but the salarians seemed to recognize them.  The younger of the two salarian females began to scream, as if in dismay, drawing out her omnitool, brandishing it like a weapon.

James raised his hands, backing away, “it’s okay, we’re here to rescue you…”

She shook her head, turning to the other salarian, “it’s Shepard’s crew…like you said.”

The asari, Aethyta, got to her feet, groaning as she rubbed her temples, “so this is where you got that stupid idea.  I keep telling you Escheel, Shepard and his crew are beyond reproach.”

Aethyta grasped Escheel’s arm, lowering it, and glared at the other salarian, “and no matter what Dalatrass Linron says, I won’t be persuaded otherwise.”

“Thank you, Councilor,” Vega nodded, extending a hand to the salarians.  They both ignored him, but the turian, Sparatus, grunted as he gripped the soldier’s arm.

“Trust Linron to question the hand that saves her…”

As they helped the counselors to their feet, Jacob asked, "where’s the rest of the Council?"

Asari Councilor Aethyta was first to reply, "on their way here when the signal hit...the bastards blindsided us."

"Let’s get you out of here," offered Vega.

Everyone calmed down slightly as they entered the elevator, grateful for the momentary peace and quiet.

The turian, Sparatus, looked at Jacob, "you seem to make a habit of saving this Council every time you visit, Mr. Taylor."

Jacob shrugged, "about as often as Shepherd."

The Councilor grunted a chuckle and they finished the rest of the elevator ride in silence.  Everyone was bone tired.  Jacob's team had been fighting ever since Grissom, and the Citadel had been brutalized by the sudden attack.  As the doors opened, Jacob’s team secured the perimeter.  Aethyta shook her head, leaning on Sparatus for support.

“I can barely think through this haze,” she gasped.

“The Dampening Field,” explained Vega, “we need to find the source of the signal.”

No sooner had they started walking from the elevator entrance, than a series of shuttles flew overhead, blasting away at the ground around them.  A battalion of armored humanoids dropped from the ships, clad in the colors of an all too familiar foe.

“Cerberus,” spat Jacob.

“Paladins,” corrected Vega.

“Whatever, just kill them!” Taylor screamed, as he fired into the troopers.

Talitha and David raised their arms, drawing a large shield around the Councilors with their omnitools.  Vega rose to his feet, providing support fire for Jacob.  He then caught sight of a dropship with an Atlas mech attached to its bottom.  The walking tank would decimate them.

“Oh hell no!” cursed Vega, taking aim with his rifle.  He bolstered the shot with his omnitool, as a Carnage round tore through the struts supporting the mech.

The shuttle seemed to falter from the sudden shift in weight, leaning to one side.  The craft slammed to a halt against a pillar supporting the nearby elevator.  The mech then fell from the shuttle, crashing into a flaming heap on the ground.

Vega pumped his fist in triumph, as the flaming wreckage rained down on the enemy at their flank.  He turned to face the final battalion with Jacob.  That was when all hell broke loose…

An arc of electricity tore through the air, transfixing the defenders, as well as the Councilors.  Jacob turned to the source of the attack, his eyes widening as he caught sight of the sneering Dalatrass Linron.

Linron brought out a gun, training it on Councilor Escheel, “I told you to have our salarian STG kill Shepard, but you wanted the rest of the council on board.”

Jacob snarled, lunging for the Dalatrass, who sidestepped, firing several rounds into Taylor.  The biotic sputtered, crashing into Escheel, who fell under the weight.

Still unable to speak, Escheel glared at the traitor.

Linron shook her head, “don’t look at me like that.  For all your vaunted machinations, you still lacked the resolve to take what is rightfully ours…”

Vega turned to look at the two cadets, who seemed to be breathing.  He growled in anger, turning over onto his stomach.  Linron turned on him, taking aim.

“Tsk tsk…”

Before she got a chance to fire, Jacob screamed in a final act of defiance, lashing out with his arm, as a blast of biotic Warp crushed the gun, Linron’s hand with it.  She screamed in pain, using her good arm to send another electric Overload arcing from her omnitool, stunning the group yet again.

Linron turned to the remaining Paladin soldiers, gesturing to the fallen, “finish them off, and lets get out of here…”

Vega lay prone, helpless as the enemy closed in.  He cursed that the last thing he’d see would be that damn white armor.  He’d much rather have died in bed, with several asari around him…


	53. Jacob

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 53

Newly anointed Admiral Chellick beat his fists against the terminal, as his ships continued to fall, one by one.  The salarian attack had been too sudden, crippling the defense force immediately.  He shook his head, now he understood why the salarians had offered to provide the lion’s share of the defense fleets.

It also meant that this was more than just a splinter group, members of the leadership were responsible.  But that knowledge would do him little good.  As the alarms on the bridge continued, Chellick snarled, shutting off the noise from his console.  He knew his ship was dying; he didn’t need the last things he heard in life to be those damn sirens.

“Admiral!” issued the yeoman, “more contacts…Spirits…!”

Chellick’s eyes widened, as an entire fleet of ships jumped in system.

“Citadel Security?” issued a husky, feminine voice, “asari fleet Alpha, reporting in, courtesy of the Shadow Broker.”

A raspy voice followed, “fleet Omega reporting, the Pirate Queen sends her regards…”

Chellick hammered his fist through the air, sighing with relief, “it took you long enough!  Welcome to the party!”

A third call issued from the intercom, a familiar voice...

“We wouldn’t miss this.  Normandy reporting in…”

The Admiral sank into his chair, allowing hope to return, bolstering his thoughts, “let’s fry these bastards!”

*************************

On the Citadel…

Vega was still enamored with his final thoughts when shots rang out.  Blood red puffs of smoke exploded from the helmets of the Paladin operatives, their bodies falling to the ground.

Linron’s eyes widened, glancing up to see several figures rushing towards them.

Captain Armando Bailey had been preparing for this day.  Something in his gut had told him to be ready.  The Citadel had been attacked, and nearly taken, on more than one occasion.  This was the seat of Galactic Civilization, and it had been helpless against the might of the Reapers.  Never again, he had sworn.  So the standing militia had been bolstered, the volunteer army created by Shepard kept on retainer.  It had seemed like ages ago, and no longer necessary.  Yet Bailey had remained vigilant.  

That steadfastness had yielded dividends.  The signal had hit, knocking out most of the biotics on the Citadel, and destroying all communications.  But it had been crippling, rather than blinding.  Thanks to careful planning, they had systematically secured the checkpoints, accomplishing in hours what could have taken days.  However, it hadn’t helped C-Sec establish who the traitors were.

‘None of this will be worth a damn if Linron kills us!’ thought Escheel.  The salarian Councilor tried in vain to speak, warn Bailey somehow.  How could she have been such a fool, allowing the Dalatrass to play on her xenophobia?

Linron glanced down at the salarian Councilor, and leered, priming her omnitool once more.  Escheel couldn’t believe it, despite all this, they were still going to die…

Dalatrass Linron raised her good arm, “Captain Bailey…thank goodness-”

Bailey seemed not to hear her, turning to two figures on either side of him.

“Councilor Koris,” he grunted.

“Together,” said the quarian.

“Affirmative,” answered the geth, Proxy.

Councilor Zaal’Koris and the geth ambassador, Proxy, both raised their omnitools.  The first Overload tore through Dalatrass Linron’s shields, the second stunned her.

The salarian traitor shook her head, unable to understand how they had known.  As Bailey brought his pistol to bear, Linron saw another figure beside him…a familiar asari.

‘The rachni representative,’ hissed a voice in the back of Linron’s mind, unable to remember her name, ‘how could we have ignored that?’

“Shepard sends his regards,” announced Bailey, squeezing the trigger of his pistol.

A dark corner of Linron’s mind began to laugh, appreciating the masterful crafting of situation, ‘well played…’

Then the round tore through her skull, ceasing all further thoughts forever…

Bailey took a quick glance at the figures strewn about, and caught sight of Jacob Taylor.

“Medigel!” shouted the Captain.

The krogan Councilor, formerly known as Shaman Urdnot, rushed to the fallen soldier’s side.  He gripped the wounds tight, before sealing them off with medigel.  Bailey offered a hand to James Vega, who barely waited to shake off the torpor before rushing to Jacob’s side.

“Taylor!  Stay with me man…”

Jacob sputtered blood, wincing in pain, “ah…it’s too late…the bitch got me good…”

Vega shook his head, noting the bleeding coming from the base of Jacob’s neck.  He furrowed his eyebrows, Jacob hadn’t been shot there.  Then he realized…

“That last biotic attack,” gasped James, “when you saved me from Linron’s gun…”

He had strained his damaged body passed its limits to pull off that feat, despite the Dampening Field.  That last act of defiance had caused irreparable damage to his nervous system.  Compounded with the pistol rounds, they would never get him to a medbay in time.

Jacob gestured with his left hand, as if shooing away a fly, “it was nothing…”

Vega gripped the man’s hand in a vise, “no, it was everything…”

The biotic grunted, turning to the cadets.  He could see several C-Sec personnel help Talitha and Archer to their feet.

“The young ones are fine,” announced the Councilor Urdnot, “though they’ll have headaches for a few days.”

Jacob chuckled, turning to Vega again, “Brynn…and my daughter…”

James nodded, “I’ll take care of them…they’ll know you died a hero…”

“Kasumi…”

“You want me to tell her something?”

“No, just watch out for her,” Taylor shook his head, “crazy theif’s gonna start stalking YOU now…”

James blinked several times, trying to process the statement.  Jacob slowly grinned, despite the pain.

Despite himself, Vega started chuckling.  He blinked, fighting the dizziness that assaulted him.  When he looked again, the light was already gone from Jacob’s eyes.

“A good death,” whispered the krogan softly, laying Jacob’s body down gently.

Before James could reply, he heard a series of shrieks.  Bailey cursed, as he and the C-Sec officers drew into a circle around the Councilors.  Vega got to his feet, drawing Jacob’s fallen shotgun, as well as his own rifle.  He handed the shotgun to the krogan.

Urdnot took the gun, checking the heat sinks before cocking the weapon, “looks like we’ll be joining him soon…”

Vega and the rest were already worn and haggard.  His vision was blurry, and he couldn’t count how many Prothean husks approached.

“Then he’ll be in good company,” spat Bailey, “but I plan on taking a few of these bastards with us…”

“Well said,” replied Zaal’Koris.

“No,” said asari beside them, the voice of the Rachni Queen echoing through the air, “today we reap salvation…”

Another pair of shuttles flew by.  The first blew past, laying into the Remnant horde with blaster fire, herding them into close quarters.  Two blue streaks dropped from the second shuttle, as Shepard and Jack dropped into the contingent of husks.  Twin explosions cocooned from their Nova blasts at opposite ends of the horde.

Shepard and Jack followed the onslaught by blazing through the husks from either side, their Biotic Rushes flinging the monstrosities into the air.  As the second shuttle descended, two more figures emerged.

Javik peppered the air with biotic force, as his singularity held the husks in the air.  Sephora followed the attack with Dark Chanel, a withering attack which tore flesh from limb, before shattering the husks like so much glass.

Shepard turned to the first shuttle, gesturing it to continue onwards, “find the source of that signal and clear the way, we’ll catch up!”

“Understood Shepard,” answered Ashrai.

“Be careful,” Liara said over the intercom, as the shuttle flew off.

Shepard turned to Bailey and Vega.  Both men drew their guns as they caught sight of the Collector beside him.

Shepard raised his hands, “it’s alright, she’s with us.”

Vega lowered his weapon, turning to Bailey, “how’d you know the Dalatrass was a traitor?”

Bailey gestured to the asari representative for the Rachni, “Shepard warned us.”

“When the Dampening Field blew out Relay communications,” said Shepard, “I used Shiala’s connection with the Rachni to notify our friend here.  I hope it was in time.”

Bailey turned to Jacob, “not for everyone, unfortunately.”

Shepard kneeled down beside the corpse of his friend, “Jacob…damn…”

He got to his feet, turning to Vega, “we’ll get him a proper burial later, for now, we focus on the mission.”

A chill went up Shepard’s spine as he said those words.  They were the same words he’d said before the Reaper War had started, back on Eden Prime.  History, as ever, seemed keen to repeat itself.

Shepard turned to Bailey, “can you get them to safety?”

The Captain nodded, “we haven’t been sleeping easy these past few years.  A secure outpost is a few clicks from here.”

“Who the hell is doing this?” demanded Vega.

“If I had to guess,” said Bailey, “I’d say Charles Saracino.”

Shepard shook his head, “Humanity First?  What do they have to do with this?”

“Before this whole thing started, I sent one of my best to investigate a connection between Saracino and local gangs, on the hunch of an Investigator Parasini.”

“I remember her,” said Shepard, “what happened?”

“You remember Thane’s son?” replied Bailey, not mentioning Kolyat’s name, “he kicked over a damn hornet’s nest, and people died.”

“I still don’t see the endgame,” argued Vega, “how does this tie to Cerberus?”

As she secured the perimeter, Ashley Williams sniffed loudly, “Saracino is part of Humanity First.  It’s a cause those Cerberus bastards would gladly follow.”

“They call themselves ‘Paladins’ now,” said Shepard, “where do we start looking?”

Bailey brought up his omnitool, “here are the coordinates of his hidey-hole in the slums.  I’d stake my good eye he’s there…”

“Then let’s move out…”


	54. Playing the Hero

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 54

Ashley piloted the shuttle through the wards of the Citadel, trying to ignore the smoke from firefights down below.  They had a more important goal.  Still, a part of her was unsettled.

“We have a plan here?” she asked.

“Find Saracino, kill him, then destroy the damn base,” replied Shepard, “figure that’ll do for his Dampening Field as well.”

“And from Liara’s research,” added Jack, “using this Dark Energy weapon against them could turn the battle even further.”

“It’s simple,” remarked Ashley, grinning, “I like it…”

Jack cursed as several pings emitted from her LADAR scans, “company…”

Shepard turned back to look out the rear windows of the hovercraft.  Two shuttles were closing in on them.  He cursed, handing Jack his rifle.

“Hold this,” he said, securing his pistol.

“What are you doing?” asked Ashley.

Shepard shook his head, “slow down.”

“But they’ll catch us-“

“I know.”

Ashley rolled her eyes, “fine, I won’t argue, but you’d better be on the level.”

“Ease up postergirl,” said Jack, “my man knows what he’s doing.”

She turned to Shepard, an eyebrow arched, “don’t you?”

He smirked, opening the side-door of the vehicle, “I certainly hope so.”

As the first vehicle closed, Shepard leaped the distance between them, fumbling against the surface of the craft.  His magnetic boots latched onto the metal, and Shepard drew his pistol.  He gestured with one hand, biotically warping the metal, then used his free hand to fire his gun into the engine block.

Shepard turned as smoke billowed from the craft, lining his sights with the second craft, which was fast approaching.

“What is that madman thinking?” demanded Javik.

“Shit,” Jack widened her eyes, as she realized, “that crazy bastard!”

Shepard leapt from the plummeting hovercraft, using his biotics to rush at the second shuttle.  As he drew close, Shepard cursed, as the craft veered in an attempt to smash him against the windshield.

He shot at the pilot, forcing the craft to waver.  The vehicle clipped him, as Shepard tumbled along the side of the flitting craft.  He drew his combat knife, gouging a rift into the side of the hovercar.  The blade held, as the shuttle dragged Shepard along with it.

“Get below them!” shouted Jack.

“On it!” snarled Ashley in reply, bringing their craft to bear underneath the other.

Shepard looked down, nodding, then drew his grenade belt.  The charges latched magnetically to the undercarriage of the shuttle.  The SPECTRE grunted as he kicked away, loosening the knife from the body of the craft.

He fell with a thud against the roof of the shuttle, tumbling over the edge.  At the last moment, Shepard gripped the side of the door, as several pairs of arms grabbed him, drawing him inside.

Ashley grit her teeth as the shuttle above them exploded, raining debris down upon them, the reverberations shaking the craft.

As Shepard caught his bearings, Jack slapped him across the face, “crazy sonuvabitch!  You scared the piss outta me!”

He couldn’t help but chuckle, as Jack shook her head.  Before long, she too smirked, sighing in disbelief.

“Humans,” said Javik, “I never understand the primitives of this age.”

“Then learn to adapt,” quipped Shade, “or die an old fossil.”

The Prothean glared at the Collector, millennia old grudges playing across their faces.  Javik had been furious at being excluded from the mission to Ilos.  Shade hadn’t cared to return to the graveyard of her people.  Shepard shook his head, wondering at how the same grief over the loss of their culture could manifest so differently.  Shepard had feared that tension would blow up in their faces…he needn’t have.  Shade’s wings began to twitch, as she issued a slight chuckle.  Javik shook his head, turning to the side as he hid his grin behind a cough.

“Coming up on the coordinates,” said Ashley, ignoring the exchange, “oh shit…”

Before Shepard could ask, the air around the shuttle was hammered by anti-air fire.  One of the blasts clipped the back end of the craft, as it began to hurtle down towards the Wards below.

“Gonna be a bumpy ride!” warned Williams, “strap in!”

*********************

A bright light assaulted Shepard’s vision, then everything went dark.  The collision jarred the squad.  On instinct, Shepard shot the glass of the hovercraft, stumbling out in a haze.  He spat out what tasted like liquid copper, still unable to see anything.  He could, however, hear the chatter of enemy soldiers nearby.  The familiar sound of Cerberus radio calls rang in his ears, as did the screeches of nearby Banshees.

“Liara,” stammered Shepard, “are you there?  We need help…”

A great blast took hold of his senses once again, as the very ground beneath him quaked.

“I’m here Shepard,” came Liara’s voice.

Everything halted, and he lost track of how much time passed before a pair of arms helped him to his feet.  When his vision cleared, he saw Liara draped around him.  He was braced against her, his back to a nearby wall.  In the distance, Shepard could make out Ashrai and Shiala, as they tended to the rest of his team.

Jack was collapsed on the floor nearby, breathing heavily, exhausted.

“Remind me never to do that again,” gasped the tattooed woman, “damn…I think I broke a few ribs.”

Slowly, Shepard took note of the mangled bodies in white armor, as well as the charred corpses of several score of Remnant husks.

“What happened?” asked Shepard, gesturing to the squalor.

Liara turned to look, then glanced back at him, a fierceness in her eyes, “I wanted to see you…they got in my way…”

Shepard chuckled, “remind me to never piss you off.”

“Until eternity,” whispered Liara, helping Shepard to his feet.

She offered an arm to Jack, who shook her head, “pulled something in my legs too, I’ll need a minute.”

“Signal’s coming from further in,” announced Ashrai, “shall we go?”

The SPECTRE looked into Liara’s eyes, then Jack’s.

“I’ll only slow you down,” replied the tattoed woman, “go, I’ll catch up.”

“Let’s save the Citadel…”

******************

The area seemed like any other sprawl in the Citadel.  The tattered remnants of the clubs nearby spoke to the type of people that lived here.  The attack had damaged this ward worse than the others, and it was apparent in the bodies strewn about.

Bailey and C-Sec had locked the Citadel down tight, despite the chaos.  But Paladin forces owned this area, and they had cleared the streets with extreme prejudice.  Everywhere he looked, Shepard could see the charred remains of human and non-human alike.  The path to the signal’s source was suspiciously devoid of sentries.  What little there were, Shepard’s crew quickly disposed of.  He barely stopped his stride, as they trekked through the ward.

A slow weight seemed to be building at the back of Shepard’s skull, a pressure that he couldn’t deny.  He turned to Liara, who nodded, she could feel it as well.  He glanced at Ashley, who shook her head, making a wavering gesture with her hand.  The non-biotic could tell they were feeling something, but she barely noticed anything at all.  It was the Dampening Field then, it had to be.  He could feel it in his head, like a beacon.  Eventually, they reached the entrance of a particularly seedy looking nightclub.

A whole segment of the district had been torn away, as light shone in from the other wards “above” them.  Shepard could see past the holes, and noted the blue seas of Earth in the sky.  This wing had been blasted to hell.  Shepard took another step, but was halted, as a warning went off in his head.  He quickly raised his biotic barriers, as an explosion brought down a section of wall.  The SPECTRE leapt to the side before he was crushed.  But the pressure in the back of his mind built up again, strained from the use of biotics.

As if the wall had buffered them from the effects of the Dampening Field, a wave of energy washed over them, driving the team to its knees.  Even Ashely winced, feeling a migraine assaulting her senses.  Shepard shook his head, blood trickling from his nose, and turned to the others.  Shiala was wincing in pain, but she was on her feet.  Sephora looked back and forth with concern, as the others writhed in pain on the floor.  Shepard saw a shard of metal jutting from Liara’s side.  He rushed to her, crying out in dismay.  

Liara shooed him away, “just a scratch, it looks worse than it is.”

“The hell you say,” replied the SPECTRE, as he carefully drew out the debris, quickly sealing the wound with medigel.

“I’m fine,” replied Liara, weakly slapping at Shepard’s hand, “but my biotics…my amps feels like they’re going to burn and explode…”

“It’s the Dampening Field,” shouted Shiala, “we must be too close.”

He saw Jack limping up to meet them, barely able to stand, her leg numb and her hand clutched to the side of her head.

“I thought…we were resistant,” grunted Jack, falling to her knees.

Liara slowly got to her feet, wobbling against the tattooed woman for support, “apparently…not enough…at least we’re still conscious.”

Shepard shook his head.  Whatever it was, it seemed that he and Sephora were mostly immune, and Shiala just barely.

He gestured to Ashley, “get them out of range.”

“Bullshit,” spat Jack, rising to her feet, but stumbling, her leg unable to bear the weight.

The SPECTRE stood in her way, concern furrowing his eyebrows, as blood began to leak down Jack’s nose.  Her eyes began to roll backwards, but she slapped herself awake in defiance, eyes glowing fiercely as she wiped away the blood.

Jack forced her legs steady, though her arms were shaking, “it’ll take more than a dizzy spell to take me out…”

Shepard sighed, “then just stay back here, as backup.  The rest of us will scope it out…I’ll be careful…”

Jack tried to speak, but Liara patted her shoulder.  Jack bit her lip, glancing between the two of them, then hung her head, nodding, “just come back quick…”

Shepard nodded, turning.  He gestured to Shiala and Shade, “you two, with me.”

Shepard turned to the Prothean, as well as Ashrai, “you two, fan the perimeter, guard our backs.”

 

The squad traveled deep into the ward, an eerie silence settling over them.  Shepard was used to hearing more than the creak of broken metal here; and the effect was jarring.  Shepard cursed, as he heard the familiar shriek of husks nearby.  He signaled a halt, referring to his omnitool.

Ashrai shook her head, “go on, we’ll follow the thermal signatures and draw their fire.”

“You sure?”

“Go, Captain,” said Javik, showing teeth, “it will please me to kill those defilers.”

He nodded to Ashrai, and patted Javik on the shoulder, “stay alive.  You are keeping the back door open for our escape.”

The two nodded, heading out, as Shepard’s team entered the broken shell of the club.  Before long, they could hear the screech of dying husks.  Shepard could only trust his friends would find their way.

Soon enough, his focus was drawn elsewhere, as soldiers in Cerberus colors came out to meet them.  With a wrathful grunt, Sephora gestured at the men, as her biotics ripped apart their armor, before flinging them against the wall.

Shepard turned to the Collector, “you taking this personally?”

“Aren’t you?” she replied.

Shepard heard the footsteps before another team rounded the corner.  He threw a few well-placed grenades, mopping up the helpless survivors with a few barks from his assault rifle.  He shook his head, noting the cold precision with which his body moved.  After a near-decade of war, it had become second nature.  Coupled with anger, it was easy to become consumed.  As much as they had struggled, Shepard could only imagine the wrath and despair that “Shade” must have suffered through.

The Collector cocked her head, “are you concerned about something?”

“We’re a team,” the SPECTRE offered to them, “don’t kill yourselves taking on the world alone.”

“How quaint,” echoed a voice through the room, “bonding with the natives, are we?”

Shepard narrowed his eyes, as a lone human stepped out of the shadows.

“It is demeaning to coddle those beneath us.” 

“It’s no one’s place to rule all cultures,” said Shepard.

“He speaks truth,” followed Sephora, “it was the Protheans’ downfall.  This cycle only defeated the Reapers by standing together.

“As equals,” finished Shepard, “not as despots.”

Charles Saracino sneered, waving in disgust.

“You disappoint me.  Even today, some call you ‘The Shepard.’  Give it enough time, and it is all you will have left.  I rather envy such a godlike legacy…”

Saracino gestured to the trio before him.  A dark blue flare emitted from a nearby conduit, the Leviathan orb feeding energy into the omnitool in his arms.  However, nothing happened…nothing visual anyway.  Shepard could feel a pressure at the base of his skull, similar to what he had felt on Feros.  This was the signal that had halted all other biotics in their tracks.  It was the precursor to the weapon that had claimed the life of Terric, the brave batarian who had saved him at the Paladin research base.

As it stood, the headache was enough to drive him to his knees.  But Shepard had survived worse.  He had felt Harbinger's whispers in his ears, the taunts of Sovereign echoed in his memories.  For the longest time, he had thought he'd never escape those voices.  But the Prothean Beacon, combined with the Thorian Cypher, had instilled in him a sort of...calm.  Coupled with the support of those he held dear, this new weapon was nothing.

Shepard cocked his head to the side, "expecting something?"

He glanced to his side, noting that Shiala was wincing a bit, but still vertical.  Shade seemed not to register the attack at all.  Whatever engineering had forged her, it rendered her resistant as well.

"We took out your troops," ventured Shepard, "you have nothing left to throw at us."

Saracino sneered, lowering his arms with a growl.  He cursed Shepard.  If the base on Feros hadn't been destroyed, he could have blown the amps right out of the bastard.

"No matter, if you survive what's coming next, Atrayus will kill you with Project Typhon."

Shepard began to notice the shadows about them moving, hearing shrieks and clicks emitting from the figures.

"Protheans," hissed Sephora, "he turned the sleepers on Ilos into husks!"

"Thanks to the Thorian, as well as a side-effect of our research into the Ardat Yakshi.  At least, that's what Admiral Xen surmised..."

"Daro Xen...of the quarians," breathed Shepard, drawing back to back with his squad, as the husks drew closer, “damn traitors…”

"Enough of this," rasped the Cerberus leader, "kill them..."

The horde descended upon the trio…the ghosts of cycles passed rushing to claim their revenge…

 

*****************

Shepard turned as he heard Sephora scream, only to find her vanished.  Had she fallen, or simply disappeared, leaving them behind?  Saracino laughed, as Shepard methodically continued the fight, ignoring his burning muscles.  His movements became sharp, clinical, almost robotic.

Saracino jeered at Shepard, "damn SPECTRE, look at you go...even the asari can't keep up.  Are you even human anymore?  I can see your circuits shining through the blood."

He ignored the taunt; although he could all but hear the whirring of the servos, feel the movement of his cybernetics.  He had long wondered, was he man, or machine?  It was a question he couldn't afford to indulge at the moment.

A shriek from behind caught him off guard, as Shiala fell to a vicious attack from a Brute.  Shepard rushed to the side of the beast, wrenching its neck.  The beast fell to its haunches with a cry, as the SPECTRE bared its throat.  Shiala quickly drew her boot knife, using her biotics to charge the attack, as she cut out the Brute’s throat.

With a cry, Shepard twisted, taking off the Brute’s head at the joint, throwing the severed trophy at Saracino.  The politician cringed, but snapped to his feet.  Shepard and Shiala were still weary, and locked in place by the Dampener signal bogging them down.

The leader of Humanity First scoffed, “huh, I HAD thought to call you a mere puppet, but you seem equal parts animal and machine…where has the man known as Shepard gone?”

The SPECTRE said nothing.

Shiala glared up at Saracino, her eyes flaring, "he is more human than you will ever be..."

Almost faster than Saracino could react, Shiala broke free from the Dampener’s grasp, her arms flaring in a final salvo, "SO SHUT THE HELL UP!!!"

Saracino flinched, his shields unable to take the series of attacks head on, and was flung against the Dampener, crashing against the device and onto his back.  Shiala collapsed back into Shepard's arms, unable to continue the attack.  The two leaned on each other for support.  Too many Prothean husks still surrounded them.

Saracino turned onto his stomach, getting to his feet shakily, as he wiped the blood from his mouth.

"That was close," he granted, moving towards the orb that had dropped from the Dampener, "you almost got this-"

Before he could say another word, the Leviathan Orb vanished.  A moment later, he was surrounded by a green aura.  He had enough time to recognize that it was a biotic field of some sort, before the subsequent explosion flung him against the wall.  Near the mound of smoke, where the orb had been, a figure materialized.  Sephora's arms steamed, as if cooling down from what she had just done.  In her arms, she held the Orb.

"Thank you for the time, Shepard," she stated, "sorry I left you holding the line."

The SPECTRE chuckled gruffly, barely able to speak.

The husks turned from him, facing the new source of attack.  They began to call to each other, heads bobbing up and down in a frenzy.

"Maker," spat the Collector, "with no hive mind to control them..."

"They've gone rabid!" shrieked Saracino, somehow still alive.

Shepard was too tired to even be upset.  He was merely bemused.  It seemed an ignoble way to die...torn apart by these husks.  A flash against the horizon interrupted his thoughts.

"What is that?" Sephora whispered, as a light shined through the shattered window outside.

Shiala noticed it first, her eyes widening, "look out!"

She all but tackled Shepard, as several shuttles came crashing through the opening.  The wake of the surging vehicles flattened the weary soldiers and husks alike.

In unison, the doors of the hovercraft opened.

Shepard's heart sank, as he noticed the colors painted on the shuttles, "STG..."

Saracino began to laugh, "fortune favors me, it seems."

The Cerberus leader got to his feet, drawing his knife, "but before I leave, I shall take pleasure in killing you Shepard."

As if on cue, a battalion of figures streamed out of the vehicles.  The former leader of Humanity First blinked several times.  The bodies before him seemed to be larger than normal salarians.  A red streak fell from one of the shuttles, crashing into the largest contingent of Prothean husks.  As the smoke cleared, Shepard's eyes widened.

"Shepard," said Wrex, "you throw the best parties...even left some for me this time..."

The SPECTRE said nothing, he just started laughing.  Wrex grinned, turning to the krogan gathered around him.

"Well, time to remind the galaxy of what we do best," announced Wrex, "killing monsters!"

The troops around them roared fierce bloodcries, as they rushed into the hapless husks with blade and shotgun.  Nearby, a familiar krogan in white armor laughed.  Grunt tore through the monstrosities with his bare fists.  As one of the Protheans tried to leap on him, the krogan reared his head back, headbutting the husk.  Shepard could hear bone crunch, as the husk's head caved inwards, and it fell with a thud.

Another beast shrieked behind Grunt, and he turned, bracing for the attack.  This one was a Vorcha Berserker.  It would take some doing to take it down.  Grunt smiled his death's head grin.  This was going to hurt, but it would be fun...

Before the demon closed, a blue aura surrounded the beast, freezing it in place.  Several salvos followed the attack, covering the Berserker in flame.  As the beast shrieked, Grunt rushed forward, sending his fist through the throat of the monster.  He wrenched the control orb from the base of its spine, and dropped it to the floor, stomping on it with his full weight.

As the beast lurched, Grunt turned, eyeing Wrex, Vash, and Kirrahe, "I could have taken him..."

Wrex laughed, turning to bark orders at the other krogan.  The salarian rested his rifle against his shoulder.

"You're welcome," announced Kirrahe.

The vorcha merely barked his coughing laughter.

Before Shepard could say anything, Shiala jerked his arm, screaming his name.

Crichton turned, catching sight of Charles Saracino rushing him, taking this last moment to kill the SPECTRE.  He brought the remains of the terminal beside him to bear.  Despite the lack of an orb, Saracino flung his hand into the device, feeding it biotic energy.  The device began to channel blue light, glowing angrily.

In one fluid movement, Shepard pushed away the asari, drawing his hands back to his center with inhuman speed.  He knew this attack, it was the same weapon that had claimed Terric’s life on Feros.  In a moment, Shepard had enough time to come up with a plan, and curse himself for his own stupidity.

Shepard grasped his arm, bypassing the safeties and forcing his omnitool to Overload his own system.  Unable to withstand the blast, his biotic amps shut down.  Before his muscles completely seized, Shepard brought his arm back up, forcing the straining omnitool to raise his shields.

But it wasn’t enough.  A tide of energy bashed against him, chipping away at his defenses.  Shepard cried out, as his skin began to slough off.  But he would not allow himself to fall.  If the beam made it past him, his friends would be claimed by the Dark Energy blast.

With a scream, Wrex rushed to Shepard’s side.  Stomping down, the krogan activated his own biotic barriers, supplementing the SPECTRE’s defenses.  Shepard fell back, crashing into Wrex.

The Krogan braced himself, “I’ve got you!”

“Fall back, you crazy bastard!” screamed the human, “you’re going to get yourself killed!”

Wrex simply continued to howl with laughter.  Shepard’s entire world was engulfed in a deluge of sound, as smoke blinded them all.  He heard an explosion, as everyone was flung about in a torrent…

 

Everything hurt.  Charles Saracino began to cough, forcing his lungs to move, trying to recall how to breathe.  He slowly got to his feet, overlooking his surroundings. Several of the bastards were writhing on the floor.  He had hoped that overloading the device would do the trick.  It very nearly had, but as always, Shepard had to meddle.

Saracino grunted, still, at least the bastard was dead.  He tapped the controls on a nearby terminal.  The Conduit didn’t have much power left, but it would get him off the Citadel.  Charles turned, as he heard a rustling.  Through the smoke, he saw a pair of red lights, shining angrily at him.  It was followed by a thud, and a dull clank.  Out of the smoke, the silhouette of a man appeared.

Saracino couldn’t believe his eyes, and had to laugh at the sight, “oh my…I was too generous…look at you Shepard…you are merely a toy!”

The SPECTRE emerged from the smoke, sweat steaming off his glistening body.  The N7 armor was fused with bits of his flesh, like freshly formed glass.  However, this was not what caught Saracino’s attention.  One of Shepard’s arms was worn to the bone, exposing a metal endoskeleton.  Metal shone through both his legs, synthetic muscle all that was left to define his right thigh.  A dull glow emanated from behind his irisis.

Shepard shook his head, scars and eyes glowing red, “heard it all before, I am a man, I make my own choices…and I choose to kill you.”

Saracino shook his head, drawing out his pistol, “maybe a shot to the head will end you.”

He screamed, as a clawed hand wrenched his arm around.  Saracino shrieked, as Vash snarled in his face.  Wasting no time, the alien tore into the human’s corotid artery with another clawed hand.

“Talk too much…” announced the Vorcha, nodding to Shepard.

Saracino clutched at the gash, unable to breath.  Raw hatred suffused all expression in his eyes, as he began to sputter blood from his mouth as well.  Then, he simply collapsed into a heap, body twitching lightly, as the last breath coursed from his body in silence.

"Thanks," said Shepard.

Vash nodded.

"Good thing we were along for the ride," quipped Wrex, "saved your ass again Shepard..."

“And vice versa,” he replied, wincing, “I feel like hell.”

"You look like hell," said Wrex, turning to the wavering portal, "any more pyjaks left to kill?"

Shepard shook his head, “no telling what’s on the other end of that thing.”

He took the Leviathan Orb from Sephora, then turned to the device Saracino cradled in his dead arms.  Shepard put his boot to the dead man’s hands, prying the cylinder from them.

“That the source of the damn signal that’s giving me a headache?” asked Wrex.

“It didn’t seem to affect you at all, krogan,” replied Sephora.  She was nestled against a fallen desk, unable to move, but conscious.

Wrex shook his head, doing a double-take at the Collector.  The krogan made as if to reply, but settled for shaking his head.  By now, he knew better than to ask questions of Shepard, and simply turned to the SPECTRE.

“The benefits of a redundant nervous system, but I wouldn’t call my burning amps comfortable.”

“Stand back then,” announced Shepard, “I’m taking this through the Conduit.  I’m the only one immune to whatever effects this device might have.”

“And myself also,” said Shade, “Javik as well.”

“You can’t move, Javik isn’t here, and we don’t have time.”

Shepard dragged the device with him, as he moved closer to the event horizon of the portal.

“According to the readings, the other side of this should lead to Ilos, we have a chance to scuttle this entire attack.”

Wrex shook his head, “I’m going with you.”

“You need to stay here,” replied Shepard, “we need someone to lead the counter-offensive, if I fail.  Besides, with any luck, Garrus will be waiting on the other side of this.”

“And if he isn’t, you are dead, and Liara will have my head!”

“Assuming Jack doesn’t kill you first,” smirked Shepard.

Before the krogan or anyone else could reply, Shepard jumped through the portal.

With a curse, Vash leapt after him, “no you don’t!”

Wrex flinched backwards, as the light of the Conduit flashed out, leaving nothing but the stench of ozone in the air.

He turned to Kirahhe, “get that damn thing back up!”

The salarian rushed to the controls for the Conduit, and shook his head, “it’s fried…it’ll be hours before I can repair and repower this …”

Grunt shook his head, “Battlemaster and Vash are on their own.”

“Damn fool,” cursed Wrex, “if he survives…I will kill him!”


	55. Fleets and Flotilla

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 55

Garrus glared out the front of Dover’s hull.  The ship had engaged the stealth systems as soon as they’d entered the system.  Even still, the fleet arrayed between them and the Planet of Ilos was on full alert.

“No way we are breaking through that blockade,” announced the pilot, Steve Cortez.

“The batarian armada will make varren steaks out of us,” added Zaeed Messani.

“That’s why we’re waiting for the asari,” replied Garrus.

Half the batarian fleets had rebelled, after Shepard’s mission to Karshaan.  It had been a miracle the entirety of the Hegemony hadn’t declared war.  Still, those willing to treat with the Council were ill-at-ease with the prospect of fighting their wayward brothers.

Garrus smirked.  It was probably just as well he had an admiral of the quarian Flotilla on board.  Tali and Revenant had secured a geth fleet, manned by both the synthetics and the quarians.  His mission to Lesuss had freed up some asari battlegroups as well, which would buy the Dover the distraction it needed to make planetfall.

“Well, they won’t wait forever,” chimed Miranda Lawson, “we’d better get ready.”

Garrus glanced at the Orthos leader.  Though they’d never completely seen eye to eye, Lawson had remained a steadfast and valuable member of the team.  It was probably just as well that their wheelhouses rarely crossed.  After all, it was Zaeed Massani who had taken charge of their ground forces, and the mercenary had no problems deferring to the turian.

“You alright staying out of the fight?” he asked.

Miranda nodded, “biotics are going to be useless on the planet’s surface…that’s why Samara is leading the boarding parties against the batarians…I’ll manage from here…”

As Garrus left the bridge, he noticed Lawson hadn’t mentioned one glaring exception…On his way to the shuttle bay, Garrus met Tali in the elevator.

“I’m going,” she said flatly.

Garrus groaned inwardly, “no you aren’t.”

The quarian slammed the emergency stop, taking off her facemask to glare at Garrus.  Other times, the SPECTRE might have welcomed the sight.

“Damn it Garrus, don’t punish me!”

“Hey, I’d never blame you for my shortcomings…”

“Her death wasn’t your fault!”

“It wasn’t your’s either…”

Garrus no longer felt like the same person.  It seemed a lifetime ago when he had received this new command.  Along with Dover, he’d gotten a chance to team up with an old comrade.  Garrus had been frightened of his past relationship with Elana Pytar, fearful that Tali would take offense to Garrus’ old flame being on board.  However, as was her wont, Tali quickly warmed to the warrior.  But at Haestrom, Elana had sacrificed her life for the quarian.  Garrus found he couldn’t brush the death aside, and neither had Tali.

Garrus sighed, “so why do I feel so responsible?”

As he looked down, Tali lifted his chin with her hand, “because the best of us always do…”

The SPECTRE brought his arms up to embrace Tali, his eyes distant and lost in thought.

“Why can’t I go?” she whispered.

“You know why,” said Garrus, “you’re the only one the quarians and the geth will listen to in battle.  You’re the best damn hacker in the fleet, and we need you and Miranda organizing this forsaken mess of an offensive.”

Tali shook her head, wisps of hair falling about her eyes, “don’t leave me behind…”

Garrus brought her face up with his hands, “I’m counting on you to bring me home…”

She said nothing, clinging to him tightly as they kissed.

At some point, engineering must have overridden the emergency stop, as Garrus became aware of the doors opening.

Engineer Adams grinned at him from behind the open doors, “something wrong sir?”

The turian glared archly at the human, “no…Admiral Zorah simply wanted to make sure I had enough oxygen.”

“I’m sure,” replied the engineer.

Garrus strode up to the shuttle, pointedly ignoring Adams.  As he did, Falere drew close.

She shook her head, “Major…are you sure you want me in the landing party?”

“You’re the only biotic in the system that can shrug off the enemy’s energy dampeners, why the hell wouldn’t I want you around?”

He could see her struggling to respond.  Years of repression under the label of “freak” had left the pariah with little self-confidence.

“Leave off that Ardat-Yakshi nonsense, you’re a valued part of a team now,” grunted Garrus, “you afraid?”

Falere nodded, “more for Kolyat’s sake than mine.”

Ilos was engulfed in a Dark Energy field, which would cripple most biotics.  As such, Samara had come up with a plan to lead all biotic forces.  Asari boarding shuttles would breach the hulls of the enemy capital ships, as the quarian fleets provided cover.  Few had the sheer numbers to match the asari biotics, allowing even a small group to decimate a large ship.  It was a risky venture to be sure, but such a group could prevail where even the strongest ships in the fleet could not.

Garrus laughed, “don’t worry about him.  Samara and Kriose are going to destroy anybody they come across.”

“Yes sir…”

“More importantly, you’re going to keep us alive…and do your mother proud.”

Falere nodded, slightly blushing.  Garrus turned to the others before him.

Ever energetic, Kasumi waved to Tali by the airlock, “don’t worry dear, I’ll bring him back in one piece.”

“You’d better!” answered Tali, “there aren’t that many pieces to spare!”

“You mean there aren’t any left that you haven’t claimed,” laughed Zaeed.

Garrus remained pointedly silent as the team loaded into the shuttle…

Before long, Revenant’s voice chimed over the intercom, “fleets have arrived in-system, Geth drones are making their attack run.”

“All this,” whispered Kasumi, “just to buy us time to make planetfall.”

“Well,” replied Zaeed, “they don’t have to take out whatever this ‘Typhon’ is…”

“Then let’s make sure we get the job done, before they can make it to the Citadel…”

**************************

Aboard the Admiral’s bridge, Carlan Verrad looked on as yeomen announced the arrival of his fleets.  The radar before him showed countless blips on the LADAR.  As of yet, the enemy outnumbered him, despite the presence of all his fleets.

“Well…Carlan,” laughed Garmok, his scarred face appearing on the monitor, “I knew you weree foolish…but not THIS foolish.”

Carlan narrowed his eyes, “complacent in your stolen fleet?  You know who serves the batarian people.”

Garmok waved his hand in a gesture of denial, “mere words…they won’t serve you when my fleets destroy you.”

“Well then, let’s see what I can do to even the odds…”

As if on queu, more fleets appeared out of lightspeed.  Several contingents of Asari snub fighters and boarding vessels appeared.  Moments later, a cacophony of sound issued from the LADAR, as the geth and quarian armadas added their number to his forces.  He could now hear quarian and geth voices on the intercom as well.

Carlan saw the chill in his foe’s eyes and laughed, “so, who’s the fool again?”

Garmok grimaced, a red haze shining from his eyes, “I am going to kill you…old man…”

He grinned back, “you are welcome to try…”

Carlan then turned to the yeoman, “send out the signal…all ships engage!”


	56. Ilos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 56

Garrus closed his eyes as the ship lurched to and fro.  Though he couldn’t hear the battle, by now, nearly three fleets had to be engaged in battle.  The Dover’s stealth systems would allow them to make planetfall in the chaos…he hoped.

“Are we good to go?” asked Garrus.

Miranda shrieked a reply, “no, the fleets are tied up, and the bloody LZ is a damn mess!”

“There’s another LZ a few clicks south of the signal,” offered Tali.

“Only workable solutions please Admiral.”

“I can do it!” argued Cortez.

“No you bloody can’t,” spat Lawson, “a hundred yard strip isn’t a landing zone, it’s a damn killbox!”

Garrus laughed remembering their first trip to Ilos, “Tali?”

He could almost hear her smirk over the comm, “Steve, you sound like Joker right now…”

“All due respect ma’am,” answered Cortez, “few have as much flight combat training as me…”

“Garrus?” asked Tali.

“Do it Cortez,” he replied, “I’m not the one Tali will skin if we die…”

Any response he might have heard was drowned out by a blast, which shook the ship.

“AA guns!” yelled Cortez, “we gotta drop the load before the LZ gets too hot!”

“Boshtet!” Tali’s voice followed, “initiating drop in 3…2…1…Keelah Selai…”

The world outside ceased to be enshrouded in darkness.  Through the display ports of the dropship, Garrus could see dark green skies.  Below, the rusted surface of the ancient Prothean civilization glared.  All around the ship, artillery rounds began to bombard the air.

Garrus shouted into his comms, “we’ll be vaporized before we can make the LZ!”

A synthetic voice replied, “acknowledged, Vakarian-Major…my team will cover your approach.”

The dropship shook, as several points of light hurtled passed at breakneck speed.  A geth battalion, led by Revenant, made landfall, targeting the husks at ground level.

“Focus on the Ravagers,” ordered the geth to several large Geth Primes.

Suddenly, the team heard a great howl, screaming towards their dropship.  Garrus stared out the window, catching sight of a giant beast emerging from behind cloud cover.  Tattered wings held a great beast aloft.  It snapped its jaws angrily, its exoskeleton glistening with blood.

“Harvester!” screamed Zaeed, “the bastard’s going to ram us!”

The color drained from Vakerian’s face.  The Remnant dwarfed their dropship; it would crumple them like paper.

“Garrus!” shouted Tali, over the intercom.

“Standby,” said Revenant, “reinforcements incoming.”

A great blast of light blinded the Turian, as he saw a giant Geth Collosus jet through the air.  A blast from its headlamp scorched the screaming Harvester, as the two masses collided.  The impact was bone-jarring, near enough that the reverberations shook the dropship.  The two beasts hurtled to the ground, as husks and geth alike filed out of the broken monstrosities to continue the battle.  It happened too fast to process.  Garrus and his team remained in shock, unable to see the battle raging below them.  With a jarring thud, the dropship reached the surface of the planet.

“Hostiles eliminated,” announced Revenant, “good hunting, Vakarian-Major.”

“Keelah,” whispered Tali over the speakers.

Clearly, the quarian had seen the battle.  The turian wasn’t yet sure whether he wished he had as well.

Barely trusting himself to speak, Garrus cleared his throat, “good work, guard our flank…”

Without further preamble, he pressed on the accelerator, as the dropship began to rush through the decayed city.

“Damn lightbulbs,” said Zaeed, shaking his head, “glad the bastards are on our side…”

Falere was speechless, and Kasumi simply laughed.  Garrus remained silent, telling himself it was simply to maintain his composed image.  The SPECTRE pointedly ignored all the empty crypts along the walls of the city.  He remembered his first trip to Ilos, when the cocoons had been filled with corpses.

“What were in those things?” asked Kasumi, “look like Collector pods.”

“Not far off,” replied Garrus, a chill going down his spine, “last I was here, they were full of dead Protheans.”

Zaeed immediately picked up on the ramifications, “that’s a fuck ton of husks…where the hell did they all go?”

“Let’s hope we don’t find out,” answered Garrus.

 

Beyond the skies above Ilos…

On the bridge of his ship, Garmok Akesh looked on his monitors, as the battle for the fate of the Universe raged on.  Unlike in the past, his chance for glory had come, he was in the center of this war.  Yet, still, as before, fate jealously guarded what was rightfully his.  The batarian looked out his viewscreens, watching in silence as ships around him burned, claiming the lives of his people.  Akesh sneered, these lives were nothing, compared to the glory he sought to seize for his race.

The formations of his fleets danced about on the LADAR screens before him.  The crew all looked to him, expecting some brilliant strategy for a counterattack.  Garmok nodded, as if the information meant something to him.  He hadn’t counted on the geth fleets, damn the synthetic bastards.  The asari, even the quarians, he might have handled.  The geth, however, had no fear, rendering his best strategies all but useless.

Before the leader of Clan Akesh could issue an order, the entire ship shuddered, as something impacted against the hull.

“What the hell was that!?”

“I don’t know sir,” screamed a yeoman, “it seems to have been a torpedo of sorts, engineering teams are on their way now!”

Immediately, a warning issued from the monitors, signalling an incoming transmission.  Garmok narrowed his eyes, feeling apprehensive of the timing.  He turned to the yeoman, and nodded.  As the young officer tapped away from his terminal, a familiar face appeared on the viewscreen on the bridge.

Garmok glared stoicly at the face before him, “Admiral…have you called to surrender, old man?”

Carlan stared back tersely, shaking his head, “no, but I was offering to accept your’s, General.”

“How magnanimous,” jeered Garmok, “but the fight is far from over, why even bother to make such an offer to your blood-foe?”

Carlan blinked several times, as if gathering himself, “you’ve insulted my honor, sent assassins for my daughter, and scuttled our chances at peace-“

“PEACE, BAH!  Your path offers nothing more than decay, an ignoble fate where our people are forced to…recede…”

They’d had this debate already, for countless years.  The Admiral shook his head with a weary sigh.

Carlan continued, as if he hadn’t heard, “you have fractured our people, split our fleets.  We’ve already lost too many in the Reaper Wars.  I ask one last time, for the sake of our people, for the sake of those lives we are throwing away…will you surrender?”

Garmok remained silent, the tension cutting through the air of the bridge.  No one breathed a word.  He turned to his yeoman, who shook his head.  The young officer had nothing to report.  In the back of his mind, Akesh hadn’t forgotten the attack on his ship mere minutes before.  Then he realized something…

Suddenly, Garmok began to laugh.  Carlan cocked his head to the side, not understanding the display.

“You cagey bastard,” spat Garmok, “you think you’ve already won, old fox?”

Carlan did not immediately reply, looking off-screen for a moment, before nodding and turning back.  He stared at his foe pointedly, “last chance…”

“Go to hell…”

Carlan shook his head again, “you first…”

The door to the bridge caved inwards, as a biotic singularity tore into the bulkheads.  The metal warped, peeling away like charred skin.  Into the breach, several shadows rushed through, flitting about the bridge.  Geth infiltrators, still in cloak, began firing into the crew.  Chaos reigned across the ship, as Garmok rose to his feet, snarling in rage.

As if he could see the cloaked units, Garmok began to fire his sidearm.  A blurry haze slammed into him, as the batarian grappled with the nearest geth.  The synthetic issued out a dull whine, its servomotors straining against the inordinate strength in the batarian’s arms.  His eyes glowed red, ablaze against the lone light of the geth’s hood.  Garmok no longer cared what his gifts would cost him.  He no longer cared if he ended an Indoctrinated husk, like the Illusive Man, and Saren before him.  He just wanted to kill these insects.  A series of guttural whispers began to echo in his thoughts.

Then, from the breach, the asari Justicar, Samara, emerged.  She was adorned in red armor, swaths of blue enveloping her from the whirling biotics.  With a gesture, she froze the remaining combatants, including Garmok.  The batarian’s eyes burned red, the muscles of his body rippled in anger, searing away at his flesh.  By sheer force of will, Garmok broke free from the biotic hold, rushing at the asari.

Samara blinked momentarily, taken aback by the ferocity of the attack.  Garmok’s eyes seemed to have burned out of their sockets, leaving nothing but lifeless cybernetics to glare back at her.  What she heard next sent a chill down her spine.

“ASSUMING DIRECT CONTROL…”

What was left of Garmok rushed at the asari, at such speed that Samara was unable to react in time.  He ignored the snapping of his limbs, hydraulics and implants taking over all function.  However, Samara had not come alone.  Another shadow flitted before her, slamming into Garmok.  The General flew back against the bulkheads, as Kolyat Krios rammed into the batarian with a biotic charge.

The Leader of Clan Akesh writhed on the floor, his flesh sloughing off.  Samara looked on, as the Geth units neutralized the other batarians.  She then let down her biotic aura, the Wreave that had frozen everyone.

Samara glared at the General, and nodded, “Shepard told me of his battle with Saren…you’ve sacrificed your soul, Indoctrinated yourself to this…Atrayus…the butcher who claimed the lives of my sisters.”

Garmok said nothing, cybernetics glistening underneath his pale, flayed skin.  A dull scream issued from his throat, almost sounding like speech.

The Justicar shook her head, not caring to make sense of the words, “then what I do now is a mercy…and more than you deserve.”

Samara gestured with her hands, as a series of biotic Singularities encircled the batarian husk, compacting the shell of Garmok’s body.  She turned to Kolyat, who nodded, unclipping several biotic grenades from his belt.  He threw them at the husk, and closed his eyes as the resulting explosions blinded him, leaving nothing but charred residue and metal scraps…

 

Down on the surface of Ilos…

Atrayus snapped back to consciousness, finding himself again within his own body.  The Collector shook his head, as he turned to the horizon.  The entire mountainside shuddered, the ruins about him crumbling from the quake.  Useful as the fool had seemed, Garmok was simply another disposable tool.  The final gambit had yet to be played…

 

Back in space…

On the bridge where a batarian General had once stood, only tattered metal bones remained.  Samara turned around the room, surveying the scene, then looked back to Kolyat.

“You saved my life,” she said.

“You’ve saved the universe, twice,” Kolyat shook his head, “your daughter saved me, and you spared both our lives.  I haven’t even begun to pay the debt…”

The Justicar remained pensive for a moment, considering.  She nodded, smiling slightly, and sniffed in amusement.

“So long as you protect and care for my daughter,” she replied, “I suppose I can consider us even.”

Kolyat blinked, before smiling nervously, “Falere can protect herself well enough.”

“Physically, yes,” agreed Samara, “but emotionally, she is but a child; and I will deal most harshly with any who would cause her…dismay…”

Kolyat pondered that phrase a moment, the color draining from his face.  He nodded silently.

“Good lad,” grinned Samara, before turning to the viewscreen, “the ship is yours, Admiral.”

Carlan nodded back, “I’ll be aboard shortly, and maybe we can undo this madness.”

Samara turned to the charred husk on the floor, “what possessed him to do this?”

“I pray I never find out,” the Admiral shook his head, “our people can’t afford more casualties.  Perhaps if I address the fleets from Garmok’s bridge, we can stop this battle.”

“Let us hope then,” said Kolyat, “that Major Vakerian has been as fortunate.”


	57. Typhon Waking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 57

Planetside…

As the Mako passed by the ruins of an old relay station, Garrus couldn’t help but be nostalgic.  He turned to the rest of his team.  None of them had made the original run to Ilos.

As if on cue, Tali’s voice issued over the intercom, “how is Vigil’s tomb?”

Garrus shook his head, “still silent, how are the fleets?”

Tali grunted her reply, “looks like the worst of it is over, but you still need to shut down whatever…INCOMING Garrus!”

The turian brought the Mako to a halt, “what the-”

Cannonfire tore into the side of the Mako, taking out the wheels.  Garrus turned to Zaeed, signaling the mercenary to get the team out of the rover.  The turian got into the sheltered cockpit of the thanix cannon, nestled atop the Mako, and set his sights on the nearby embankment.  Garrus began firing; Zaeed flinched as he hustled the rest of the team out and into cover.  Several dark figures appeared near the rim of the ruined rooftops, scattering away from the blast of the powerful weapon.

Zaeed shook his head.  Whatever the ancient Protheans had used to build the damn things, they somehow managed to withstand the blasts.  He grinned with dark humor as some of the rubble shifted, crushing the Cannibals, along with their canons.  Then more fire came, as a pair of Scions began to blast at the Mako.  Falere and Kasumi backed away, forcing themselves against the sides of the walls.  Garrus was jarred from the cockpit of the cannon mount, as the Scions began to charge forward.

Crying out, Falere gestured with her arms, wrapping the Scions in a biotic Reave barrier, stunning the beasts.  Kasumi and Zaeed followed he attack, throwing a series of grenades into the husks.  As Garrus shakily exited the Mako, Kasumi gave him the thumbs up.

“Aren’t you glad we brought her?” said the thief, gesturing to Falere.

Garrus grinned at the asari, clapping her on the shoulder, “that’s why I’m a tactical genius…do you read Tali?”

“Getting a bit of static,” came her reply, “by my calculations, you are near the Conduit. Place the charges, and get the hell out of there!”

Garrus shook his head, “not without finding out what this ‘Typhon’ is.  Besides, our Mako is busted.”

“Boshtet!”

The turian turned to Kasumi, “Zaeed and I will go ahead, you two repair the Mako as best you can.”

Kasumi shook her head, “I can give it a go, but I’m more used to stealing these things for getaways.”

Falere shook her head, “I don’t know how useful I will be to her.”

“You are going to provide her cover…and guard our exit.”

Zaeed nodded, “when we round that corner, prepare to rush out of here like a bat out of hell!”

“You say the sweetest things Massani,” quipped Kasumi, beginning to scan her omnitool over the vehicle, “get going…”

Garrus nodded, as he and Zaeed began to press forward.  They crested the hill, and could see the hulking arch that was the Conduit in the valley below.

“What the hell is that?” demanded Zaeed, pointing to the metalwork and cables emerging from the mountains beyond the Conduit.

Garrus flinched, as several other shots rang out from the sides of the valley.  The turian grit his teeth, as his barriers barely managed to absorb the shots.

“No time,” he cursed, “let’s get down there and place the charges!” 

Zaeed shook his head, “this is goddamn suicide!”

*******************

The bullets were raining down even heavier now.  Rusted metal peeled back, as stray shots pounded into the adjoining buildings.  Zaeed turned to look at Garrus.

Garrus nodded, “Tali!  Zaeed is lasing our coordinates, light up the area around us!”

The quarian hesitated, “are you…sure?  Are you in a safe position?”

“As safe as we’re bloody going to be!” spat Zaeed, “do the thing!”

“Garrus?” whispered Tali.

“We’re ready,” said Garrus.

“Keelah!” cursed Tali, “here comes the rain!”

Garrus and Zaeed had to shield their eyes, as a torrent of fire flooded the fields around them.  The cannons of the multiple orbiting ships turned the valley to glass in moments.  Vakerian came out from behind cover, the cracked earth about him baking and steaming.  The skies above glowed angrily in shades of red and violet.  Garrus punched the side of a nearby wall in anger.

“Damn it,” he stated, “the Conduit is still standing.”

“The mass effect fields must be warping the gravity,” replied Tali, “at least you’re alive.”

Garrus nodded, he had to be grateful for small mercies, “heading out, keep the skies clear.”

“You got it,” replied Tali.

Garrus gingerly moved to the outer edge of the hillside ramp, able to feel a slight gravitational pull from the Conduit.

Zaeed gestured with his chin, “what’s on the other side of that thing, the Citadel?”

“Most likely,” Garrus nodded, “can’t be good, let’s get to work.”

“I’m more worried that it was so easy to get here.”

“You call that easy?” demanded Garrus, “we almost fried ourselves!”

Zaeed shrugged, “I dunno, where’s the ringleader of this clambake?”

As if on cue, a wave of green energy engulfed the pair of soldiers.  Garrus and Zaeed screamed in agony, as the pull of the biotic Channel wrenched their muscles, threatening to tear them apart.

“YOUR RESISTANCE…IS AT AN END!” uttered a deep, guttural voice.  Garrus shuddered, as the command echoed throughout the valley, projecting enough force to crack the glassed surface in a cacophony of sound.

The turian felt his blood run cold, as a Collector appeared from behind the portal of the Conduit, “MORE INSECTS TO BE HARVESTED…”

Garrus spat, turning to Zaeed, “you had to open your big damn mouth…”

“Your forces cannot stop us,” whispered Atrayus, turning to the Conduit, as the portal began to ebb and flow, “soon, Typhon shall wake, and our victory will be complete!”

In the distance, the mountainside shifted, as a great shifting mass began to emerge, an amalgamation of putrid flesh and gleaming metal.  Garrus felt his stomach lurch, as he realized where all the dead and captured had gone, what all those souls had been fed to.

“Typhon,” he whispered, “it IS a Reaper!”

Garrus heard a rustle behind him, as Kasumi and Falere crested the nearest slope.

“What the hell is that?!” demanded Falere.

“Get back!” warned Zaeed.

“Useless,” gestured Atrayus, as another wave of Dark Energy fried the team’s senses, flooring them.

With a great effort, Garrus brought up his omnitool, raising a shield to protect those behind him.  Falere grunted, straining as she rose to her feet, and bolstered the turian’s shield with her biotics.  Kasumi and Zaeed were out cold.

Then a flash of light issued from the Conduit, something was coming through from the other side.

“Here comes the final piece,” boasted Atrayus, “prepare for your end…”


	58. Desperate Measures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 58

Shepard was concerned only with the agony blazing through his body.  The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth, the burning smell of flesh assaulted his nostrils.  He blinked several times, his head throbbing, and took note of his surroundings.  For leagues around them, he saw rusted metal against dim green skies.  Cocoons stretched out towards infinity.  He first thought he was back in the Collector Base.

A moment’s consideration allowed him to recall.

“Ilos,” he whispered, looking to his side.  Charles Saracino lay still, eyes open and unmoving.  To his other side, the vorcha, Vash, was wheezing.

A dull ache grew increasingly insistent in his skull, as Shepard began to hear groans and shrieks.  Looking beyond his surroundings, the human blinked to clear his vision again.  A Collector glared back at Shepard, all of its eyes narrowing.  Garrus and Falere were braced before the figure, arms out at length, projecting twin shields, as if to screen those behind them.  Several of the crew were strewn about, writhing in agony.

“Human,” rasped Atrayus, “you are a nuisance that I shall tolerate no further.”

Shepard dully struggled to his feet.  Garrus rose to his knees, and flinched at the sight of him.  Several ribs were protruding from the human’s chest.  His left eye was almost all socket, the red of the cybernetics beneath showing through.  His right arm was a mass of burn scars and metal.  The left arm was almost worn to the bone, grafted endoskeleton clearly showing through muscle, the last two fingers on his left hand were completely gone.  It was a wonder the man was alive, much less standing.

Shepard managed to laugh, “you sound the same as your dead masters…”

The Collector’s insect wings buzzed, “not dead for long…”

“ENOUGH TALK!” screamed Vash, lunging for Atrayus.  The vorcha gestured with his fists, as a biotic pull lifted the Collector.  Using the momentary distraction, Vash followed with a series of slashes, finishing with gouts of flame from his omnitool.

From out of the pillar of fire, an arm reached out.  Atrayus’ fist clenched around the vorcha’s throat, as a green haze extinguished the flames.

A great shudder reverberated throughout the valley, causing the ground to quake.  The Collector’s eyes blazed yellow, “too late…Typhon will soon wake…and I am his path to ascension.”

Unable to move, the team looked on, as Atrayus channeled dark energy through the vorcha.  The matter reacted to Vash’s biotic implants, causing his flesh to burn and ripple.  He screamed, as Atrayus flung him away like a broken toy.  The Collector then gestured to what had looked like a mountain range.  The rocks crumbled, shifting and resolving into what seemed to be a body…

Shepard and Garrus both remembered the horror of the human proto-Reaper, the product of countless millions of lives.  What they saw before them bore a resemblance, but it looked far more grotesque.  A swath of tubes jutted from the maw of the beast, like the tentacles of a Leviathan, matching the appendages extending from its scalp.

“What…is that thing?” gasped Shepard.

“A culmination of Reaper technology,” announced Atrayus, “a once-failed attempt to master the dark energy that previous cycles tried to harness.”

“A power that could destroy the galaxy,” said Garrus.

“A foolish notion,” agreed the Collector, “but effective, if used properly.  I have perfected the project…”

Shepard shook his head, “all those missing people…you COMBINED different species, desecrated their lives, for this?!”

“A means to an end,” replied Atrayus, “and effective.  Previous attemps to ‘preserve’ an entire species were not resistant enough to dark energy.  Typhon will usher in a new breed of Reaper…the first hybrid.”

As if in reply, the hybrid Reaper looked upward, screaming loud enough to break the sky.  A great beam of light issued forth from its mouth, streaking through the Heavens.

 

In space…

Aboard his newly taken ship, Carlan Verrad kicked the metallic corpse of his longtime foe, making certain the bastard was dead.  He turned to Samara, nodding.

“Thank you,” he said, “you’ve saved a great many of my people.  The enemy now has no choice but to surrender.”

The asari smiled, bowing in response, as did Kolyat beside her.

Before the drell could speak, however, a great beam of energy tore through space, a wave that consumed foe and ally alike.  Within seconds, the attack rent through the fleets, and the ship shuddered from the myriad explosions that pelted its hull.  Carlan turned, flying to the console and bringing up the external view monitors.

“Report!” he shouted, “where did that come from?!”

A young batarian tapped on a nearby holovid, shaking her head, “it appears to have come from planetside!”

A nearby geth shook his head, “unable to connect with the ground forces.  Geth attack squadrons are cut off from the Consensus!”

“Are they dead?” asked Carlan.

“Uncertain,” replied the synthetic.

“All that dark energy must be doing it!” replied the batarian officer.

Samara stared at the screen, as it zoomed in on an impact crater.  She saw the monstrosity lying in its center, and shivered at the sight.

“A Reaper?!”

“Impossible,” protested Kolyat, “they’ve never had an attack with such range!”

Verrad shook his head, “it doesn’t seem to matter.  I must have been vile in a past life, to deserve this...”

****************************

On Ilos…

Shepard had seen the beam cut a swath through the skies above.  And though he couldn’t see the ships beyond, the flares of light attested to the thousands of lives that had just been carelessly decimated.  Atrayus was speaking, but Shepard could hear none of it, his mind blank.  By chance, he caught sight of the device that had followed him through the Conduit.  Dimly, he recalled an action that the traitor, Saracino, had attempted.

Without thinking, Shepard dropped to his knees, grasping the device.  He placed his good hand on the Leviathan orb atop it, immediately feeling a drain on his body.  With an enraged scream, the SPECTRE fed a surge of biotic energy into the device.

“What are you doing?!” demanded Atrayus.

Shepard said nothing, as a halo of bright blue consumed his vision.  It spread outward in an arc, as a giant burst emitted from the weapon in Shepard’s hands.  A blistering heat emanated from the Leviathan orb, bypassing his body.  A shockwave surged in a sphere, devouring the earth about him.  Garrus cursed, bringing his arms up once more.  Falere again reinforced his shields with her own, protecting the rest of the crew.  
Atrayus was slow to react, as the flames devoured him.  But unlike the vorcha’s attack, this blue fire would not recede, and the pain took over the Collector’s senses.  As the shockwave reached the Reaper, it seemed to react twice over, once to Atrayus’ pain, and once again, as the blue flame enshrined the creature.  The Reaper curled over, receding into the mountainside again.

Shepard fed the device as much energy as he could, but his body was already battered, unable to keep up.  The implant in his right hand cooked and sparked, exploding.  Crichton was thrown back, a smoldering hole where the center of his hand had been.  His vision went dark…

When he opened his eyes, a sturdy pair of arms was already drawing him to his feet.  Shepard came face to face with Garrus, and nodded.

“You look like hell,” said the turian.

Shepard’s mouth twitched, unable to smile properly through the pain, “says you…take me to him.”

Garrus nodded, as the two hobbled to the smoking husk of the Collector.

Atrayus oozed green blood from the slits on the side of his head, “it matters not…Typhon sleeps but for a while.  He will awaken; my victory is inevitable.”

Shepard’s finger’s twitched, but the tattered remains of his hands were all but useless.  He looked at Garrus, who nodded.  The turian drew his pistol, aiming at Atrayus’ skull, and pulled the trigger.  The human shook his head.  First Saren, then the Illusive Man…now this.  Some people never learned.

“So,” said Garrus, “what the hell do we do now?”

Zaeed pointed to the device Shepard had brought through the relay, “that the thing Atrayus was waiting on?”

Shepard nodded to the dark energy weapon, “this was set to fry all the Citadel systems.  It seemed to hurt Tython as well, we need a large enough biotic surge to set it off.”

Garrus looked at the horizon, and the silent Reaper, “doesn’t seem to be enough.  Even with barriers down, we’ll need several Cain missiles to destroy that thing.”

“Major Vakarian,” came a voice from the comms, “this is Admiral Carlan, are you alive?”

Garrus tapped his omnitool, “we receive you, Admiral, how do the skies look?”

“Clear, but what the hell was that blast?!”

The turian looked to the horizon, at the slowly waking giant, “some sort of hybrid Reaper.”

“Damn,” spat Verrad, “some final weapon they left behind?”

“More like something that was buried,” replied Garrus, “until the Paladins unearthed it.”

“We need to take it out,” said Carlan, “one blast decimated nearly a quarter of the orbiting fleets!”

“One problem,” answered Zaeed, “simple charges won’t cut it, and the dark energy weapon down here fried our remaining blast cores.”

Shepard shook his head whispering to Garrus, “so what the hell do we do?”

In the distance, Typhon began to writhe, a dull echo reverberating across the valley from the grinding of metal against the cliffsides.

“We don’t want to be here when that thing wakes up,” said Zaeed.

“And we can’t afford to leave it alone,” answered Shepard.

“I have an idea,” said Tali, “Liara showed me the schematics of the dark energy weapons she was able to study.  There should be a contact point which draws upon an eezo core.”

Garrus nodded, glancing at Shepard’s wounded arm, noting burnt out nodes of his biotic amps, “also feeds on raw biotics, though the idea is suicide.”

Shepard snorted at Vakerian, “what’s the matter Vakerian, afraid of more scars?”

“Who was that?” asked Tali, “is that…Shepard?!”

“Yes, I’ll explain later,” answered Garrus, sighing, “so what can we do?”

“You have any Cain charges left?” asked Tali.

“Sure,” said Zaeed, “a few.”

Tali walked Garrus through the process of hooking up a Cain charge to the device.  It would provide the catalyst to start the reaction.

“Now,” said Tali, “if you can crack the eezo core from the Mako, you should have a source large enough to fuel the bomb.”

Garrus nodded, “good plan, that’ll take down the Reaper’s barriers, allowing the fleets to blast the hell out of it!”

The plan seemed sound.  They could destroy Typhon before it awoke, if they worked quickly.

“We got a problem boss,” said Goto, “whatever surge you all fired earlier…it blew the eezo core on the Mako.”

“The thing should have been shielded!” cursed Garrus, “we don’t have any other sources of eezo!”

Silence reigned again.

Softly, Falere answered, “you have my biotics, I can use them to-”

“No,” flatly denied Garrus, “you’d never survive long enough to power this thing.”

“I can do it!” she protested.

“No,” answered Shepard, “Garrus is right, it blew the amps out on my arm.  Even if you deactivated your implants, the forces would shred you before you could reach critical mass.”

Vash glared at Zaeed meaningfully, as the human shook his head, “don’t be stupid, damn vorcha.”

Garrus turned to Massani, “what is it?”

“I can do it,” replied Vash, “healing keep me alive.”

“You’re a bleeding moron!” cursed Zaeed, “there’s no guarantee you’d survive long enough for it to work.”

“Best chance,” answered the vorcha, “or universe will die…”

“Oh boshtet!,” cursed Tali, “we have another problem as well!”

Shepard tapped his arm, only just realizing that his omnitool was all but defunct.  He groaned, turning to Garrus.

“What’s wrong?” asked Vakerian.

“Going over these readings from that dark energy blast,” said Tali, “from what I can tell, the wave will disrupt any incoming fire.  By the time we could lock on, the dark energy wave will have dissipated.”

“The attacks have to coincide,” reasoned Shepard, color draining from his face.

Garrus relayed the sentiment to Tali.

“I’m…afraid so,” her voice sounded desperate, “I’m sorry…I don’t know what to do here…”

“Well, that’s simple,” replied Carlan Verrad, “my current vessel has multiple drive cores.  If we ram this Reaper while overloading the engines, the effect should eclipse the blasting power of the fleets.”

“Would that work?” asked Garrus.

“…No,” hesitated Tali, “our ship’s autopilot systems would be fried by the dark energy wave.”

“Can’t a geth pilot the ship down?” asked Shepard, “then recover from backups?”

“Impossible,” replied Tali in frustration, “all that dark energy is playing hell with the geth connections to their Consensus.  None would survive the approach.”

“So someone will have to stay and pilot the ship,” finished Garrus, “and no matter who…it’s a suicide run.”

“I figured as much,” replied Verrad, “still…small price to pay.  Two lives for the fate of the universe seems fair exchange.”

Shepard shouted, clear enough to be heard, “Admiral, you can’t expect us to accept-”

“I expect,” replied Carlan, “for my friends to build a better world, and take care of my daughter.”

“But sir,” protested Garrus.

“You are laying down your lives for this,” said Carlan, “I’ll ask nothing of my allies that I cannot do myself.  Someone has to make the sacrifice, and this old, dying soldier has few regrets.  Don’t cheapen it.”

Garrus and Shepard remained silent, as the vorcha thumped his chest.

“Well said,” agreed Vash, “leave now.  No one else dies…”

 

On the bridge of his ship, the Leader of Clan Verrad turned to Samara and Kolyat.

“Get going,” he said, “make sure my last will is done, protect my daughter.”

The asari nodded stoicly.

Kolyat shook his head, “this sacrifice is meaningless, there must be others-”

“It is a parent’s privilege to protect his child, someday you will understand.”

Samara clapped a hand on Carlan’s shoulder, “Goddess protect you.”

He grinned, “I’ll take all the help I can get…now get out of here.”

Slowly, the entire crew evacuated, including those among the Akesh survivors.  Carlan glanced at the lone remaining crewman.

“I said everyone soldier,” he commanded.

“Teach your mother to suck eggs sir,” the other batarian chuckled, “someone has to make sure the engines hold together long enough for this.  Don’t steal all the glory.”

Carlan grinned despite himself, “you know this ship?”

“No, but I’ll manage,” replied the batarian, “besides, I owe Shepard for saving my life, back on Omega.  A particularly nasty plague, it was.  This is a much better way to die.”

Carlan nodded, issuing a salute, “very well, I thank you.”

The batarian crisply saluted in reply, “the honor is mine, sir…”

************************

Kasumi shook her head, as she faced the portal.

“I don’t like this boss,” said Goto, “I should be here, in case you need me.”

They could already hear the shrieks and howls of the approaching husks.  It was as if Typhon was calling the Remnant, some sort of defense mechanism that was aware of the crew’s plans.

Garrus turned to the Conduit controls, “can’t risk a return to the Citadel, in case the backlash follows us back.”

“So, we make for Haestrom,” said Falere, “you want us to secure the landing zone.”

Garrus nodded, “it should be a ghost town, but better safe and alone than dead.”

Zaeed handed them several packs of gear, “make sure you pop shields AS SOON as you cross the barrier, just in case.  These are the only weapons we can spare.”

Kasumi shuddered, as she watched the shambling horde of prothean husks approach, “we should be here, covering you.”

Garrus shook his head, “we’ll follow through as soon as the bomb hits critical mass.”

Tali scoffed, “assuming you are still alive, and the Conduit still works, and-”

“Hush dear,” said Garrus, “it will be fine, your genius plan can’t fail!”

“Oh Keelah,” cursed Tali, “I wish there was another way…you realize if you die…it’s all my fault?”

“Bullshit,” said Zaeed, “it’s the Reapers, and nobody else.  Besides…if this fails, and we die…the Galaxy won’t be around to complain.”

“Indeed, then we can knock back drinks on a beach in Heaven,” quipped Garrus, “sounds romantic, doesn’t it?  Don’t spoil my fantasies NOW, Admiral Zorah.”

Tali began to sob, laughing slightly, “you boshtet…be safe.”

“Keelah Selai...I’ll see you on Haestrom.”

A nearby shriek drew their attention.  More husks…

“No time left to chat,” said Zaeed, “you two, through the Conduit.”

Kasumi leapt through without preamble.  Falere took one final look, nodding to both Shepard and Garrus, before leaping through.  The two SPECTRES turned back to Zaeed, who nodded to Vash.

The vorcha began feeding the dark energy device.  He screamed in agony, as the weapon devoured his biotics, the forces tearing away at his flesh.  He channeled the energy through his offhand, so the device couldn’t overload his amp.  Instead the dark energy seemed intent on first devouring his flesh.  Vash’s healing replaced the sinew as it was burned away…barely.

The vorcha glared at the three soldiers, grunting, “this nothing…look to front!  Keep us alive!”

Zaeed and Garrus turned to face the oncoming horde.  Shepard looked down at his hands.  He could still handle a gun, barely…cradling the weapon by sight, as he couldn’t feel his arms anymore.  Still, he counted it luck that his hands worked at all; and now grateful for the cybernetics.  As he joined his comrades, they nodded.  The soldiers didn’t bother counting the pulsing masses, simply firing into the enemy with abandon.  As the Remant howled towards them, they said nothing, their guns screaming defiance.


	59. Sacrifice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 59

Shepard and Garrus called out, reloading their weapons as they ducked back into cover.

Zaeed covered them, picking off prothean husks with his battle rifle, “go back to sleep, you old gray bastards!”

A voice called over the comm, “Carlan here…making the final run, make sure its shields are down.”

“Will do,” replied Shepard, “preparing to fire the weapon.”

Vash stared at Zaeed meaningfully, and nodded.

Zaeed shook his head, “not leaving you to die, stupid vorcha.”

The vorcha coughed his laughter again, “dead anyway, dumb human.  Save them…tell my story…Massan-ee.”

The moment seemed to last forever.  Zaeed shook his head again, never once believing he’d regret the death of a damn vorcha.  He turned to his comrades, who slowly rose to their feet.

“The husks seem to be falling back for now,” said Garrus, as he moved to the Conduit controls, “good thing too, I’m empty-”

“Let’s arm that thing,” said Shepard, “you two get the hell out of here.”

“This is ridiculous,” countered Zaeed, “just getting yourself bloody killed!”

Garrus shook his head, wanting to protest as well.  However, he caught the glint in Massani’s eye, “what’s wrong?”

The mercenary widened his eyes, drawing his gun, as if aiming for an enemy behind them.  Instinctively, Garrus mashed the activation for the Conduit, turning as he drew up his omnitool.

Massani rushed Shepard, lifting him with his shoulders, and ran towards the event horizon of the Conduit.  Shepard grunted, unable to speak as the wind was knocked out of him.

Garrus blinked, seeing no enemy, “Zaeed, what the hell-”

“Hurry you arsehole!” rebuked the older human, as he leapt through the Conduit.

Garrus turned to face Vash, as the vorcha continued feeding blue biotic energy into the Dark Energy device.  The vorcha screamed, his body’s healing unable to effectively stave off the weapon’s effects anymore.  The flames devoured Vash’s flesh, but the vorcha used his biotics to keep his body intact.

He turned to Garrus, nodding.

Garrus shook his head, “Aria will be pissed!”

Vash grinned, “she understand…good death, worthy of a warrior.”

The turian stepped backwards, the flux energies of the Conduit pulling at him slightly.  But Garrus wouldn’t step through, not yet.  He had to make sure.  As if in answer, a great boom issued from the skies, and a batarian cruiser tore through the atmosphere, hurtling towards the ground.

A screaming cry issued forth from the mountainside, as if the Reaper could feel its impending doom.  A great gout of energy glowed brightly in its mouth, but the blue fires of the Dark Energy weapon would not be denied, stifling the light.

With his remaining free arm, Vash gestured to Garrus, an arm outstretched.  The turian barely had time to recognize the movement.  The vorcha shot a biotic push at Garrus, flinging the SPECTRE through the safety of the Conduit.

Vash stared into the horizon, as Verrad’s ship crashed downwards.

“No shame,” said Carlan over the static-ridden intercom, “we are saving the universe…a vorcha and a batarian.”

The Admiral looked through the front port of his ship, the surface rapidly rising up to meet his ship, then closed his eyes…

“No regrets,” laughed Vash, “good life…”

“The best…”

The vorcha watched as the vessel crashed into the demon in the mountain.  Light and sound took over his senses, as the explosion devoured the surface of the planet…


	60. Finale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE CONCLUSION!!!  New trouble looms for our heroes in the wake of ME3 (modified Destroy Ending, Synthetics Alive). The legacies of the Reaper War still linger, as a silent civil war brews amidst reconstruction of the Galaxy. This is a story of espionage and battle that will span the entire universe!

Chapter 60

The Citadel…

Huerta Memorial Hospital was a mess.  Captian Bailey had done a good job of shoring up the defenses for the attack on the Citadel, but they’d lost too many damn people.  Garrus shook his head, recalling his exploits with Jacob Taylor.  They’d saved each others’ lives on several occasions.  Taylor’s last action had been to save the Council.  The act had allowed Shepard to make a push for the Conduit, giving them all a chance for victory.

As Jacob’s former Commander, Shepard would have wanted to inform Brynn, Taylor’s wife.  However, Shepard had been listed as critical in the intensive care unit ever since they’d returned.  James Vega had insisted on taking the duty, as Taylor had died saving his life as well.  Vakerian had let him.  There was grim work to go around aplenty.  Friends helped ease the burden, but it was still a crushing weight.

Garrus dourly viewed the scene, trying to retain a small amount of hope.  Doctors Michel, Chakwas, and Wiks were currently running from ER to ER, overseeing the medical supervision of the most desperate of cases.  Beside Garrus stood Wrex, leader of Clan Urdnot, and fellow SPECTRE Ashley Williams.

“I enjoy a good fight as much as the next krogan,” said Wrex, “but you people…you don’t do things by halves…do you?”

Garrus had to laugh, “maybe you’re beginning to rub off on us.”

“Haha…I knew there was a reason I made you honorary krogan.  Maybe we can turn these young pups into actual warriors.”

“Probably just as well to let them heal up first Wrex,” quipped Ashley, “we ARE in a hospital.”

Wrex merely grunted incredulously.

“So,” said Garrus, “I heard they considered revoking Council status for the salarians.”

Ashley nodded, “I’ve been running around like an errand boy because of it.”

“Wouldn’t that incite salarian seperatistm, make them enemies of the Council races?” asked Garrus.

“That’s why they’re still thinking,” Wrex shrugged, “last thing we need is another reason for them to stab us in the back.  Besides, not all of them are pyjaks…”

Garrus shook his head in amusement.  From the corner of his eye, Vakerian saw the new batarian envoy to the Citadel.  As Ashrai approached, he nodded to her.

“Good to see you, Ambassador.”

“And you as well, Major,” nodded Ashrai, before turning to the others, “Warmaster, SPECTRE.”

“So, how does it feel being the new leader of your clan?” asked Wrex, “Grunt had stories to tell.  Any problems with adjusting to power?”

Ashrai shook her head, “my father…saw to all the formalities.”

Garrus nodded, “you’ve earned it.  It’s up to you to continue his legacy.”

“I won’t mourn him,” she decided, “I just have to continue my work; he’d have wanted it that way.”

“Best way to honor a warrior,” said Wrex.

“He’d have been proud,” agreed Ashley.

Sounds from beyond the doors of the hospital drew their attention.  Samara and Grunt were helping C-Sec officers herd the crowds outside.  Whereas Grunt did his task with no small amount of yelling and thumping, Samara seemed able to direct the horde with merely a stern look and a few gestures.

“I’d better go out there, before we have another diplomatic incident,” Ashley groaned, before stalking off to help organize the tumult.

Ashrai couldn’t help but laugh.  She had found true friends, and valued all of them.  Still, it had surprised her how Grunt and Samara taken such a vested interest in her father’s final wishes.

“I should mention,” Ashrai smirked, “that my enemies find it exceedingly difficult to oppose the will of a Justicar and the ambassador of Tuchanka.”

Wrex laughed, “those pyjaks aren’t stupid enough to try.  She’d kill them before even the politicians could get their hooks in.”

Garrus rolled his eyes, “that’s assuming Grunt didn’t turn them into mash first.”

“True enough,” nodded Wrex sagely, “he does his Warmaster proud.”

“I’m just grateful things worked out for Samara’s daughter,” said Ashrai.

“You’re telling me,” Garrus laughed, “I was afraid she’d tear a hole in the Dover’s bulkhead when she found out about Kolyat.”

Wrex nodded, as he caught sight of another weary figure walking into the atrium of the hospital, “heads up.”

Liara hobbled over, stretching the kinks out of her legs.

“You alright?” asked Garrus.

“Fine,” answered Liara, “I passed out at my desk sometime this morning, and my muscles still ache.”

“You and Miranda have been going nonstop for days,” said Wrex, “you need to take a break.”

“The Galaxy won’t organize itself,” replied Liara, “you should see what Tali’s been doing for us; poor girl has been running ragged.”

“I heard you are enacting protocols to prevent another breakdown in Relay communications,” Ashrai made it a statement, more than a question, “quite the feat.”

“Revenant and Shiala are doing the heavy lifting, organizing the geth and the rachni.  I’m just working with father to ensure the more shortsighted fools understand the value in such planning.”

Ashrai pondered the statement a moment, then remembered, “ah, I forgot, your father is Councilor Aethyta.  No wonder I liked her.”

“Thanks to Aethyta,” Garrus smirked, “I’d say the current Council is likely the most pragmatic we’ve seen in a while; never a better time for it.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” said Wrex.

They all drew silent…

Liara shuffled slightly, looking at her feet, before glancing at the entrance to the intensive care wards, “how is he?”

Garrus sighed, “Miranda’s keeping Jack company.”

“She hasn’t left his side ever since he got back,” added Wrex.

“I’d have joined them,” offered Liara, “but I couldn’t.”

“He’d understand,” said Garrus, “I’ll escort you, the rest of this will keep until tomorrow.”

Liara silently thanked them, taking his arm as they walked away.

 

As they left, Ashrai turned to Wrex.

“I can tell what you are thinking,” he said, “Shepard will be fine.”

Ashrai shook her head, “how long’s it been since he got back from Haestrom?”

Wrex rubbed his crest, “about two weeks now.”

“Then how can you be so sure?”

He shrugged, “he’s lived through worse.  In fact, he’s survived death…twice.  Damn tenacious, more than some krogan I know.  He’s just taking a bit longer about it this time.”

“I hope you’re right…”

 

Two weeks ago…

The world was a maelstrom of lights and sounds.  His ears were assaulted with a constant whining, and his eyes were blinded by an indigo haze…the blue shift of faster than light travel.

He crashed to a halt with a jarring thud, his vision gone completely dark.  Shepard tried to throw up, but his stomach was empty, and muscles were simply too weak.  He shuddered, his body succumbing to shock.

Shepard felt a dull sensation in his neck, as a syringe pierced his skin.

“Spirits, he’s a mess,” cursed a nearby voice.

“Garrus?” whispered Shepard, “where are we?”

“Shut up Crichton,” urged the turian, “save your damn strength.”

“Only thing holding him together is that metal skeleton,” echoed a gravelly voice, “can’t believe the bugger is still alive.”

“How far is the nearest extraction team Zaeed?”

“Comms are back up,” came the reply, “but it’s still a clusterfuck out there.”

“Damn it, we’re going to have to get him to one of the stasis pods.”

“Well, let’s hope it doesn’t turn him into jelly.”

“I can hear you guys,” complained Shepard.

“Shut up Crichton,” repeated Garrus, “you aren’t dying on my watch…”

The rest of his memory devolved into a dark haze, punctuated by shouting…

 

Today…

Shepard slowly came to his senses.  His vision cleared, as he focused on the bright metallic surface of the ceiling above.  The SPECTRE tried moving his limbs, but found that they were bound to a gurney.  His whole body ached, but it was a dull ache, submerged in the lazy comfort of anesthesia.  Shepard’s arms were covered in bandages, as was his naked torso.  He couldn’t see his lower body beneath the covers, but he could feel and move his toes, which was encouraging.

Crichton concentrated on the bindings on one of his wrists.  His biotics flashed lightly, a slight headache flaring up.  He winced, forcing back the nuisance, before wrenching his arm free.  Grunting, he fumbled with his other arm.  The effort left him exhausted, and Shepard left his other restraints as they were, unable muster any more energy.  Instead, he brought his arm up to eye level, inspecting it.  His hand was covered and padded, and he noticed the telltale signs of skin grafts on his arm, but nothing felt off.  Shepard brought his other hand to his face.  The fingers were bare, though his palm was covered and shaking.

No small wonder, considering he’d blown the amp right out of his hand.  He was lucky to still have feeling in the damn thing.  Shepard brought his uncovered fingers to his face and scalp, noting a few bandages here and there, though nothing major.  He knew he was lucky to be alive.  Shepard chuckled silently.  How many times had he cheated death now?  He was beginning to feel like he wasn’t human anymore, perhaps more machine.

The sound of a soft thud broke him from his reverie.  Shepard craned his neck to his right, and saw two women unconscious on a nearby bench.  Jack had her feet propped up on a chair, her head leaning against the wall.  Beside her, Miranda had fallen asleep on Jack’s shoulder, strands of her hair covering her face.  Shepard saw a few empty glasses, as well as a half-empty bottle of green alcohol.  He couldn’t help but laugh, wishing he could take a picture for blackmail purposes later on.

He turned to the source of the noise, nodding as he saw Garrus walk through the doors.  The turian froze at the sight of him, but otherwise remained silent, as another figure drew up beside him.

Liara covered her mouth with her hands, as tears streamed down her cheeks.  Their eyes met, and he swore he could see a flash of light.  In the next instant, she was in his arms, mouth hungrily seeking out his own, stealing the breath from him.  Her lips were moist, and willing, and felt damn good.  Shepard ignored the pain issuing from his ribs, wrapping his arms around Liara.  She breathed a contented sigh, settling herself against him.  The asari eased back a little, reducing the tension on his body, for which he was grateful.

“You need to stop doing this to us,” whispered Liara, her voice little more than a silent sob.

Crichton sighed, nodding his head, “I know…it isn’t fair.  We’ll figure something out.”

“We damn well better,” said Jack, behind her.

Shepard glanced up, finding Jack grinning from ear to ear, eyes dark from lack of proper sleep.  She walked up to him, running her hands through his hair.  Jack brought her forehead down to rest against his, closing her eyes and smiling, lips quivering.  He felt hot tears fall onto his brow, and brought a hand up to slowly caress her.

“Good to see you,” said Garrus, “I still owe you those drinks.”

Shepard couldn’t help but laugh, “wouldn’t miss it for anything, though I might take a raincheck.”

Garrus nodded, as he opened the door, “take your time, Tali and I can handle things, and Wrex will beat the rest into submission.”

Crichton chuckled, as Garrus left the room.  Miranda drew up on his other side.  She nodded, gripping his other hand and giving it a light squeeze.

“You had us worried for a while,” she said, “Jack hasn’t left your side since you got in.”

He nodded to her, “thanks for being here.”

Miranda smirked, “well, I had to check the results of my handiwork, after all.”

“Well, apparently, you build things to last,” quipped Shepard, “for which I am duly grateful.”

Miranda drew back slightly, a laugh coming to her face despite herself.  She turned slightly, wiping an errant tear that rebelliously escaped from her eyes.

Jack leaned back, sitting in a chair beside the cot, “just don’t push it this far ever again…or I’ll kill you.”

“Promises promises,” teased Shepard.

She shook her head, smirking as she punched him lightly in the arm, “bastard.”

Shepard turned to Liara, her back rising and falling steadily with each breath, “hey, you asleep?”

“Just shut up and let me enjoy this Crichton,” replied Liara, “Goddess…”

The SPECTRE glanced out the window, seeing the rest of the Presidium outside the hospital.  He hadn’t felt so weary since the end of the Reaper War.

“Huh,” joked Shepard, “maybe they’ll let me retire…perhaps I’ll become a lead SPECTRE.”

“What?” demanded Liara.

“An idea your father was toying with,” explained Shepard, “I provide oversight and communications between different SPECTREs, make sure we don’t get caught blind again.”

“Sounds like a lot of bloody work,” Miranda shook her head, “I’m tired just thinking about it.”

“Damn Crichton,” scoffed Jack, “head of the fucking spymasters?  Setting policies for the heaviest hitters in the galaxy?”

“Well, these two can do it,” said Shepard, nodding to Miranda and Liara, “why not me?”

Crichton laughed as the others began to groan in dismay…

He turned to the horizon of the Citadel.  On its current orbit, he could see Earth, which, as always, served to clarify what he’d fought for.  Once more, he had survived.  It was a miracle, and felt a bit like cheating.  Yet in this moment, he didn’t care.

He smiled, glancing at the others in the room with him.  For what had seemed an eternity, they had each been waging a war, a war for all creation.  Fate had tested them, war had engulfed the entire galaxy, yet here they remained.  
As Shepard leaned back, he felt he’d earned his rest…though keeping a watchful eye on the galaxy couldn’t hurt.  Whatever came, he would meet it, with his allies by his side…

**Author's Note:**

> Mass Effect 3.5 - Paladins of Typhon
> 
> Author’s Notes:
> 
> As ever, Mass Effect and all its related products are the sole properties of Bioware, under the auspices of Electronic Arts. I own nothing but this story, which is presented under Fair Use. As always, I thank Bioware for crafting such an amazing universe for my imagination to play within. I also thank my fellow fans for the support; and look forward to continuing our journeys in the future!
> 
> Well, we’ve finally reached the end of the road with this story. The initial inspiration for “Paladin’s of Typhon” came to me upon the heels of writing “Requiem,” my rendition of ME3’s ending. Originally, the story was supposed to take all the things that never made it into the original games, and create a sort of “deleted scenes” from the franchise. However, I found that this would have created more plotholes, and been a disjointed mess.
> 
> Eventually, I developed my notes and realized I had enough for an entirely new story. I planned and mapped out the journey accordingly. Even so, I could never have predicted just how this story panned out. Two years and 450 pages later, I managed to find a few surprises, and am relatively pleased with the results. I thank everyone who helped me during the genesis of this story: my beta-readers, the fine folks over at Bioware’s Writers’ Forum, and fellow authors who inspired me. There are too many to name, but you know who you are.
> 
> Another interesting note, and one that mirrors my previous Mass Effect work: it’s interesting to see what works and what doesn’t. There were several scenes that were cut out, whether due to pacing or laziness. I simply didn’t have the energy to craft certain sequences, and didn’t want to compromise on the craftsmanship of the story. So, a few things got left out. Entire characters were cut from the story, as well as a few battles, and even a few planets. On the whole, I accomplished most of what I wanted out of this story. I have to thank “Jackie Almasy,” both as a beta and as the one who helped me craft the particularly challenging chapters.
> 
> I’m taking a bit of a break for now, as I craft some other stories. I will certainly do more Mass Effect related stuff, but the tales of “Crichton Shepard” are pretty much finished. I don’t know if I hit all the high notes perfectly, but I certainly hope that all you readers have enjoyed following me on this voyage. Until next time, enjoy; and keep the feedback coming!


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